


Forelsket

by sohvia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daichi and Suga are best friends, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oikawa and Iwaizumi try to be friends, unintenional comic relief at the most inopportune moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohvia/pseuds/sohvia
Summary: The story of how Iwaizumi and Daichi's meet cute turned into a relationship, chronicling the ups and downs as they get to know each other, fall in love with each other, move in together, and everything else that goes with a new relationship that grows stronger with every day they spent trusting each other.-The IwaDai story that falls into Yugen (my first fic) universe(if you've read Yugen, you already know some of their history, who they dated and got over of, but this delves deeper into everything, starting from their first meeting)You don't need to read Yugen to understand and follow this story





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The main focus of this fic is on IwaDai, but there are other pairings in the background now and then (just allutions and mentions) 
> 
> Oikawa is going to come off as a bit of an asshole in this (I'M SORRY FOR THAT), because he is mostly described from Iwaizumi's perspective. I'm just warning that you might not like Oikawa in this. So, please don't hate me for it?

”Hello?”

Daichi sighed at the sound of his best friend’s voice, closed his eyes and readied himself to admit that, “I don’t want to go.”

“What?” Suga asked with amusement, a light laughter in his voice. “What are you talking about? Where don’t you want to go?”

Daichi switched his phone to his other hand and ear. “There’s this work party that I have to go to, but I don’t want to.” He mourned that he had no choice about the matter, looking speculatively at his appearance on the mirror, wondering if what he was wearing was suitable.

“What kind of a party is it?”

“A christmas party. And I don’t want to go.” He decided the shirt color was all wrong for a christmas party, especially one he didn’t want to go to, and picked a black button up from his closet, switching his phone to a speaker so he could still talk to Suga while he changed.

“Why?” Suga asked softly, as if he was asking it from a child, his voice now a little tiny through the phone’s speaker.  

Daichi realized belatedly that he had sounded a bit whiny, even childish, with the way he voiced his unwillingness to go.

“It’s a big party, with the staff from the hospitals and fire stations and police stations,” he explained, unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing as quickly as possible with his unwilling fingers to do so.

“Sounds like a big party,” Suga sounded quite impressed as he repeated Daichi’s words.

“It’s just this area, not the whole of Tokyo.”

“Still, a big party, with a lot of people. Now, why don’t you want to go?” Suga asked again, still talking to the child Daichi was being.

Daichi sighed again and tilted his head back, his eyes found the ceiling lamp and the little dent next to it, something that was already there when he had moved in, just a little grey spot in middle of all the white. Literal eyesore, no matter how many times Daichi had seen it and told himself that he was already accustomed to it.

“I just don’t. Give me a reason I can use so I don’t have to go.” He looked pleadingly at his cell phone on the dresser, his shirt open with his indecisiveness about changing it after all.

“I’m not going to do that Daichi. You’re going to go and you’re going to have fun.”

Daichi brought his chin back down and took another look at himself in the mirror, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Maybe the midnight blue shirt he’d tried on a couple of shirts ago was alright after all. “We’ll see.”

“Daichi,” Suga said sternly.

“I hope so?” he guessed, wincing a little.

“Daichi,” Suga scolded him again, his voice taking on a menacing tone.

And he sighed again, emptying his lungs and holding his breath before he _had_ to have air in his body, giving up on his unwillingness to go. “I’ll have fun.”

“Yes, you will,” Suga said as if he was willing it to happen, a smile audible in his tone.

“Thank you, Suga.” Daichi was truly grateful for his best friend, even though he was making him go to a party he didn’t really want to go to. But he was right. It might be fun.

“No problem,” Suga said cheerily, and Daichi could imagine him punching him to deliver the words if they were in the same room. “You know I’m always here for you,” Suga added more softly.

“I do. Same here.” Daichi sighed again, but this time for the lingering love that he still had for Suga, who knew nothing about it.

“Have fun, Daichi. We can hang out tomorrow and you can vent to me how horrible the party was.” Suga offered kindly, and Daichi was quick to take him up on it.

“Deal.”

Suga laughed on the other end of the call. “Okay, bye for now.”

“Bye,” Daichi said softly, the sound of Suga’s laughter still echoing somewhere inside his head, in his heart. He wasn’t sure if it was from Suga’s latest laugh, or from a long time ago when he was sure the sound had etched itself on Daichi’s insides, his bones scribbled with Suga’s name over and over again.

One last look in the mirror and... Yes, he decided to change the shirt after all. And then the trousers as well because they were all wrong with the black shirt.

It took him another twenty minutes or so to find the perfect outfit for a party that he, as if it wasn’t clear already, didn’t want to go to, and a selfie sent to Suga to double check that what he was wearing was good enough to impress his co-workers and colleagues and whoever else he’d end up meeting.

 

 

...

 

 

The day before, Iwaizumi had a similar clothing related problem, and a trusted friend to help him with it.

“Try the red one,” Hanamaki called from the depths of the wardrobe and threw the red piece of clothing.

Iwaizumi barely caught it, blindsided by the sudden way it was thrown at his face. “I don’t think this fits me anymore.” He held the shirt in front of him, appraising the size. He had bought it probably four years ago, when he was a little bit leaner, the starving student that he had been at the time.

Hanamaki peeked from behind the door. “Try it anyway.”

Iwaizumi sighed and put the shirt down on his bed to pull off the knitted sweater he was wearing. “I don’t even know about this color. I don’t think I ever wore this shirt more than once.”

“You look good in red, don’t kid yourself,” Hanamaki said distractedly, probably too busy digging through the messy wardrobe that had no sense or semblance of order.

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi muttered, not outright denying it or arguing, but not ready to admit it either. He usually wore black or white when he wasn’t wearing his uniform, so every other color just seemed _wrong,_ too bright, too... _him_ and  _his_ loud personality.

“Just try it on,” Hanamaki urged.

“I am.” Iwaizumi slid his arms into the sleeves and immediately felt the tightness on his shoulders – the shirt was too small. “And now I’m taking it off.”

“Why?” Hanamaki pulled away from the wardrobe with another shirt in hand.

“It’s too small, too tight at the shoulders.” He discarded the shirt on the bed.

“Well, try this one then.” Hanamaki held out the shirt in his hand towards him.

“It’s white,” he pointed out.

“I know.”

“You told me not to wear white. You told me find something more colorful.”

“I know I did, but you don’t own anything else but white and black,” Hanamaki groaned lightly, throwing his hands in the air and then settling them down on his hips. “That fits you and isn't a band t-shirt with a gross skull printed on it,” he added, looking at the pile of shirts that had accumulated on the bed.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as he put the white shirt on. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with white or black – if he did he wouldn’t be wearing those colors. He didn’t have anything against other colors either (except aniline red – he hated that), he just didn’t wear them.

“I have to stay fit for my job, so none of my old shirts fit me anymore.” He explained why so many of his clothes were too small, knowing that Hanamaki knew it already, but still felt the need to defend the contents of his closet.

“And you've gotten bulkier with the extensive workout you do for your job, plus you gained some weight after the break up,” Hanamaki pointed out softly, the most obvious reason.

Iwaizumi sighed, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the urge to slap Hanamaki at the back of his head for his comment when he started buttoning up the shirt.

“You would too, if Mattsun ever breaks up with you.”

“I know, and I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s normal, it’s fine. And you still look really fit, how is that even possible?”

Iwaizumi smiled a little at Hanamaki’s wonderment, the hint of awe in his voice and slightly widened eyes and raised eyebrows, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything back for the knock on the doorframe. They both looked towards the door at the same time.

“We’re back,” Oikawa said without any infliction in his voice. Which was weird. Had he just tried to be nice?

“Great,” Hanamaki was enthusiastic.

“And your boyfriend insisted on five pizzas, I don’t know why.” Oikawa added then and left the doorframe, as silently as he had come to it.

“I hate that he walks so quietly,” Iwaizumi grumbled under his breath, but he had no doubt Hanamaki heard him.

“I know,” Hanamaki said quietly and with sympathy.

It had been a while now since the break-up – ten months four days and thirteen hours to be exact – but it still hurt to think about it. So Iwaizumi preferred not to. He just focused on being friendly with Oikawa, the most he could do when he was so unbelievably hung up on him without falling again. Initially he didn’t want to have anything to do with Oikawa after the break up, after Oikawa tore his heart out of his chest and crushed it into bloody mess with a single cold squeeze of his hand, but somehow he had been able to get through the hurt to this side of things. And this side of things was them being friendly but not really friends yet. Maybe reservedly polite and not outwardly hostile was a better way to describe it. He wasn’t ready to be friends, and neither was Oikawa, but they made the effort for their mutual friends whenever they hung out as a group.

“Do you still hate him _?”_ Hanamaki asked carefully, coming up behind him with small steps to smooth the wrinkles of the back of the shirt with a few smooth moves of his hands.

Iwaizumi wasn’t used to talking with Hanamaki about the break up, or about Oikawa in general. He had usually gone to Matsukawa for that, to vent and shout out his frustration and hurt, while Hanamaki had spoken with Oikawa.

He had no idea what they had talked about, and he wasn’t sure if he really truly wanted to even know. So he never asked, but he knew that Hanamaki and Matsukawa compared notes.

“A little,” Iwaizumi admitted, appraising himself on the mirror. He looked... He looked good. He decided he looked good. He would wear this shirt to the party, with a suitable but subtly colorful tie. And with the new slacks he had bought just for the occasion. He just needed a belt for it, but he was sure he had some buried somewhere in the wardrobe, and then the shoes –

“I’m glad you’re trying to be friends,” Hanamaki cut in with his quiet voice. “Really glad.”

Iwaizumi met his eyes on the mirror. “This shirt is good, right?”

“Yeah,” Hanamaki was nodding. “You should wear this one.”

Iwaizumi nodded as well and started to open the buttons to change back to his t-shirt, black and with a gross skull in front of it.

“I’ll help you put everything back to the wardrobe.” Hanamaki went to the bed then and picked up a shirt and a hanger.

“Don’t bother with it, just stuff everything back.”

Iwaizumi heard the heavy, pained sigh leave Hanamaki. “They’ll get wrinkled.”

“They already are.”

“You really should straighten out your clothes. How do you even find anything to wear is beyond me.” Hanamaki was lamenting the fate and state of the clothes.

“I manage just fine, don’t worry.” Iwaizumi used the voice he always used at work when he was trying to soothe a child. He made a point of what he said and had advised Hanamaki to do, and picked up as many shirts as he could at once and stuffed them into the wardrobe. “See how well they fit.”

He turned back to Hanamaki to see his shaking his head with grief and exasperation, and grinned. “I can’t understand the things you do, but if it works for you then –“ Hanamaki left the sentence unfinished, the gist of it in the air with a shrug.

He could still remember how the wardrobe had been filled to the brim with both his and Oikawa’s clothes, and how well they were organized inside, thanks to Oikawa’s on-and-off obsessive compulsive habits that never failed when it was time to wash and iron and put their clothes away.

Really, the only reason why the clothes were such a mess now was in retaliation and defiance of how it had been when he and Oikawa were still together. It didn’t look anything like it had been, so it didn’t hurt to open the wardrobe and see the clothes all neat and only half-filling the empty racks and shelves and drawers. It didn’t hurt because the image wasn’t familiar at all.

“We’re going to start without you soon,” Matsukawa’s voice carried to them from the living room through the little opening of the door.

“Let’s go,” Hanamaki said with a smile Iwaizumi was sure was subconscious.

He nodded again and threw the last pieces of clothing into the wardrobe, as haphazardly as he could, and closed the closet door with a little push, barely managing with it when there were shirts and pants hanging off from the shelves and drawers.

In the living room, Matsukawa and Oikawa had already started on the pizzas, speaking over the beginning credits of the movie, chosen by yours truly.

Iwaizumi was annoyed that they couldn’t have waited for another two minutes, and he made sure they could catch it in his voice. “You couldn’t wait?”

“You were taking forever and we got bored,” Oikawa answered in his usual cocky way, as if he and his time were far more important than anyone else’s. At occasions like these, when Oikawa showed his less than attractive colors and aspects of his personality, Iwaizumi truly wondered how he had ever been able fall in love with the man, how he had tolerated living with him at all.

“It was a minute at most,” Iwaizumi pointed out, fixing Oikawa with the dirtiest look he could muster. And he knew his dirty look was extreme, he knew it could melt a weaker man. Unfortunately Oikawa wasn’t weak.

Oikawa wasn’t strong either, not in Iwaizumi’s opinion (he had lost the right to be strong when they broke up, when he broke his heart), but he could be adamant to the point of absurdity if he so chose.

“And we were bored,” Oikawa replied with raised, perfectly trimmed eyebrow, clearly challenging him to rise up to it, to say something back.

Before Iwaizumi could take on the challenge and pulverize Oikawa with some choice words, he heard Matsukawa clear his throat.

“Don’t fight,” Matsukawa said under his breath then, biting into his pizza right after, looking away as if he wasn’t following the bickering.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath to calm down, looking out the window to find something other than Oikawa’s annoying cockiness to think of. He didn’t want to ruin an afternoon that was supposed to be nice, and sat on the couch, as far away from Oikawa as possible.

“Why were you playing dress up?” Oikawa asked then, and Iwaizumi tried, he really _really tried_ not to hear the slight derision in Oikawa’s voice. He knew it would only make him annoyed so he tried not to hear it.

“I was helping Iwa find something to wear to a party,” Hanamaki answered Oikawa’s question with his mouth full of pizza.

“What party are you going to? And can we come too?” Matsukawa asked.

“It’s just a work party. And no, you’re not invited,” Iwaizumi answered, growing a little offended with the way Oikawa dug up his phone and started tapping away – texting or playing something, maybe checking Twitter who knows – as if he had checked out of the conversation and didn’t care at all what they were talking about the second the party had been mentioned.

And there he was – as he had known it would happen – he was annoyed at Oikawa. And he wasn’t above letting Oikawa hear it too. “You of course don’t give a shit,” he stated, looking at Oikawa to let the obnoxious man know who he was talking about.

“No.” Oikawa confirmed. “Why?” He lowered the phone and looked back to Iwaizumi with a blank look. “Do you want me to care?”

“I don’t give a shit what you think or do.” Iwaizumi looked away with a jerk of his head, and tried to focus on the colorful explosions happening on the television.

Oikawa scoffed, a breath of laugh escaping his nose. “Yeah, sounds like it.”

Iwaizumi took another deep breath, reminding himself that Oikawa just tried to rile him up. And he was above it, he really was. Okay, he really tried to be.... He tried to be.

“Oikawa,” Hanamaki warned.

“What?” Oikawa dropped the hand holding up his phone to look at Hanamaki. “What do you want me to say?”

“You could have wished for him to have fun at the party,” Hanamaki suggested.

Iwaizumi wished he hadn’t.

“Why would I say that when I don’t care?” Oikawa asked like he really didn’t care, like he couldn’t give a rat’s ass.

His phone dinged right then, and the next second Oikawa was standing up. “I have to go.” He stuffed his phone into his pocket and threw his half-eaten slice back into the pizza box.

“Bye,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa said in unison, them and Iwaizumi thinking the same.

They waited for the door to close to voice it, though.

“A hook up,” Hanamaki stated and bit into another slice of a pizza.

“No doubt,” Matsukawa agreed with him, and glanced at Iwaizumi. “Sorry.” He pressed his lips tight together in a form of a sorry smile.

“I know he sleeps around,” Iwaizumi waved the matter away with a low gruff voice. “You don’t need to be sorry about it.”

“Still.” Matsukawa tilted his head a little, giving him an appraisive look. “I know you’re not over the break up so it can’t be pleasant either to know about his extracurricular activities.”

Iwaizumi hated the pity, but there was nothing he could about it. Not yet, at least, not when he was still hung up on Oikawa, no matter how much he tried to convince himself and others that he wasn’t. “I don’t care what he does and with who,” he said, to once again try and prove that he didn’t, and tilted his head back as he slumped lower on the couch, bringing his feet up on it. “But I hope he gets mono or chlamydia or something.”

Hanamaki chuckled next to him, mouth once again filled with the pizza he kept munching on non-stop.

“I swear, one of these days I’m going to smack him so hard it jostles his brain and flips that switch somewhere deep in his head buried under leagues of black tar and everything not nice, from unpleasant to pleasant.”

“Maybe you should,” Matsukawa mused and brushed lint of off Hanamaki’s thigh, something he must’ve done subconsciously, a move that poked at the envious bear inside Iwaizumi chest.

"If such a switch even exists in Oikawa's programming," Hanamaki pointed out.

“Why is he even pissed at me?” Iwaizumi asked from no one as he averted his eyes from the attentive gesture, just saying it out loud to help himself think about it. “He’s the one who broke up with me.”

“You’d have to crack his head open to get access to his motives for anything,” Hanamaki answered.

“Trust me,” Iwaizumi spoke with conviction. “I’m not above doing that.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Suga?” Daichi asked when the call connected, when the call was answered but there was no sound or a greeting.

“Daichi,” Suga replied, and Daichi let out a breath of relief.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Suga mumbled into the phone then, sounding so adorably sleepy that it squeezed Daichi’s heart as he tried to imagine how Suga looked, in bed, practically sleeping, hair a little tousled and sticking up, his cheek squished against the pillow as he struggled to hold his phone to his ear.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He smiled sheepishly to himself, down at his toes.

“Why are you calling?” Suga didn’t sound mad, nor curious really. Just asking for a reason for the call, for the wake up.

Daichi took a moment, a deep breath, and waited another beat. All of it to build up the suspension.

“Daichi?”

He had waited too long, and now Suga sounded worried. He couldn’t wait any longer, and he hurried out the words he had wanted to savor.

“I think I’m in love.”

 

 

...

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, you beautiful people who decided to click on this fic. I love you, and am grateful. 
> 
> Here is a short chapter for your reading pleasure <3

 

 

”I’m happy for you, Daichi.” Suga truly sounded happy for him, so sincere and genuine, even through the phone. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Daichi breathed out his agreement. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if Suga would still find it great when he confessed who he was in love with.

“Did you meet them at the party you didn’t want to go to but that you had to go to?” There was a hint of laughter in Suga’s voice, and of course he would find the idea that Daichi had found someone at a party he initially hadn’t wanted to go to.

And just like that, Daichi’s courage shriveled back into the cage in his heart, from where it was rarely coaxed out of and only able to be lured to sing its secrets when it was fed with alcohol. At the mention of the possibility that he had met someone, he knew he couldn’t confess to Suga. He felt trapped, having called Suga in the middle of the night when he was a little drunk, only to confess, to act on his sudden and maybe a little foolish bravery. And now he didn’t have any idea what to say.

But then, a face popped into his head, and, yeah, maybe.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Now, what is the importance of this,” Suga asked kindly, no longer sounding sleepy or like he was lying down. “Do we need to talk about them now, or can it wait for tomorrow when we see each other?”

“It can wait,” Daichi said immediately. It could definitely wait since he didn’t have anything else to say on the matter. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Suga still sounded so sincere, such a good friend, that Daichi really wanted to weep for his continuously hurting heart. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.”

“Text me a time and place, okay?”

“I will,” Daichi promised, said his good nights and last apologies for waking Suga up, and hung up.

With an exhausted sigh he fell to lie on his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and fixating on the little dent there. Now he needed to come up with something to say about this someone he was supposedly in love with.

Shit, he was screwed.

 

 

...

 

 

Four hours earlier, Iwaizumi was letting his eyes wander around the large hall that was packed with people. He had lost sight of his co-workers a long time ago. Approximately six or seven glasses of wine ago.

But, he was confident he had found the perfect spot to keep a lookout for familiar faces by the table that served as a bar, filled with glasses, ready for the thirsty. He was sure that his co-workers would find their way there at some point.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice startled him a little, coming from beside him. A man was apologizing to him. For reaching for the same glass, their hands meeting by the glass they both had reached for.

“No, I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi replied, drawing his hand back. “You can take it.”

“No, you were reaching for it first,” the man insisted.

Iwaizumi looked at him, at his earnest face and kind smile, and decided not to argue and took the glass, while the man took another from next to it.

It wasn’t like there was a shortage of the alcohol filled glasses, the table was covered with them. Arguing about one glass would be futile and unnecessary.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he noted then, taking another look at the man, more studious and focusing on the little details he could pinpoint his eyes on rather than a cursory onceover.

“First time here,” the man confirmed, the same smile still holding on his face, the kindness in it in the smallest lift at the corners of his mouth.

Iwaizumi quite liked the smile.

Which was a foreign thought to have, he realized. He hadn’t thought that he liked someone’s smile for a long time. The longest. An entire eternity and then some.

“What is that you do then?” he found himself asking before he could properly process the prompt from somewhere within him to ask it. He still kept his face schooled to the determination and nonchalance that he usually had on at work functions. The one face that Oikawa had called his bored –face, his ‘talk-to-me-and-I-will-punch-you’ –face, ‘do not test my patience tonight’ –face. The one that had prompted Oikawa to try on as many ridiculous and over the top tries at flirting to crack.

Iwaizumi literally shook his head a little to shake the thought of Oikawa away from his head, to make the image of him dissolve into nothing.

“I’m in the process of completing my residency of becoming a nurse,” the man replied without a hitch, like he’d either completely missed Iwaizumi acting like a wet dog coming out of water, or had decided to ignore it.

Didn’t matter which one it was, Iwaizumi was still grateful. “How far away are you from the final?”

“Four months.”

“Do you think you’ll make it?”

“I hope so,” the man said with a little chuckle, as if nervous about it but hopeful at the same time. It was... nice.

It slowly dawned on Iwaizumi that he was interrogating the man, something that came easily for him when he was meeting new people, a trait that was the cause for many to think that he was actually a cop.

But the man didn’t seem fazed by it, if the smile and the wrinkles of mirth by the corners of his eyes were any indication of the amusement he was experiencing of being questioned.

“Sawamura Daichi,” the man offered his hand for a handshake, and Iwaizumi realized that he was being introduced to him.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he replied, taking the hand for a short handshake. The hand was warm, the shake firm but not aggressive.

Yeah, he kind of liked that about the man too. About Sawamura.

Sawamura’s smile widened for a moment as they changed introductions and broke their handshake. “What is it that you do?”

“A firefighter,” the answer came, short and sufficient.

“Wow,” Sawamura responded, actually looking impressed for a moment, blinking the shock away. “What made you want to become a firefighter?”

“My dad was one, so is his brother. Their dad was one.” Iwaizumi shrugged as non-committal as possible, looking away from Sawamura and towards the large hall, to the many backs of heads and faces he couldn’t recognize, in an attempt to distance himself from the question. “It’s sort of a family profession. You’re born a boy, you’re going to be a firefighter.”

He liked his job, was proud of what he did. He just didn’t like the fact that he had become a firefighter because he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Although, there had been a time when he’d proudly proclaimed that once he grew up he’d be a firefighter like his dad was. But now... Now he preferred not to talk about it at all.

“A family tradition then?” Sawamura asked, like he was asking for a confirmation rather than an explanation.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi answered, downing his still full glass in one go and immediately reaching to replace his empty glass with a full one. “What drove you to apply to nursing school?”

The man, Sawamura, Iwaizumi thought his name was, answered.

But Iwaizumi probably missed it.

Since he didn’t have any recollection of it when he woke up the next morning in his own bed.

Thankfully alone.

He wasn’t one to hook up with people he barely knew.

He wasn’t Oikawa.

 

 

...

 

 

But the morning wasn’t merciful to him when it came with full vengeance for his irresponsibly liberal drinking.

Iwaizumi growled as he reached for his ringing cell phone, hoping to smash it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t Hulk. He hadn’t been exposed to gamma rays. Yet.

“What?” he barked to the caller.

“Did you enjoy the party? Did you have fun?”

He recognized Matsukawa’s voice and sighed as he rubbed his eye, trying to get rid of the sleep. It didn’t help with the nausea that he was slowly waking up to register.

“The drinks were excellent, thank you for asking.”

Matsukawa laughed. “Hungover?”

“No, asshole, just thought I’d spent the day in bed because I’m lazy.”

Matsukawa kept laughing while Iwaizumi groaned internally, throwing his arm over his eyes to block the light pouring in through the door and his heavy curtains that weren’t supposed to let in any light.

“You’re so hungover,” he laughed. “You’re only this sarcastic when you’re not feeling too good.”

Iwaizumi groaned from nausea aloud this time, proving Matsukawa right, catching a quick glance at the time. “I have a shift in four hours.”

“Are you going to be able to make it there?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he promised to himself. He just needed a nap, some painkillers, and a hair of the dog to cope. Too bad he couldn’t have any alcohol in his system at work, so he’d have to forget the last part, but he hoped that coffee would work just as well. “Just need to...”

“Need to what?” Matsukawa asked after a beat.

Iwaizumi had to remind himself that he had even said anything. He was too hungover to properly think his thoughts through.

“Need to sleep,” he finished, with what had most probably been the end of his original thought. It sounded right, didn’t it?

“Okay, I’ll let you do that then,” Matsukawa spoke softly, considerate of the level of his voice. “Let me or Makki know if you need something.”

Iwaizumi growled his reply, some sort of a yes and hung up, ready to fall back asleep.

At least he hadn’t done anything stupid when he had been drinking.

 

 

Right?

 

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters are short but I'm keeping them so for my own sanity. Please understand. I am writing other fics at the moment as well and the chapters are monsters, word count wise, so these are like little sweet respites for me to read through in editing :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Also, the updates are going to be slow, please don't hate me for that?


	3. Chapter 3

 

”Hey,” Daichi greeted when Suga opened the door. “You look nice.” He took a better look at what Suga was wearing and, seriously, was it too much to ask for Suga not to wear a shirt made of such sheer material? Daichi could practically see through the thin cotton.

“Thanks,” Suga smiled shyly as he stepped aside and let Daichi in. “But it’s too much isn’t it?”

“Depends on what you’re going for,” Daichi replied, unable to take his eyes off of Suga and his practically see through shirt. “So you’re not wearing the shirt for me?”

“I like you, Daichi, but I’m not trying to have sex with you, so, no.”

Daichi let out a nervous sputter of laughter. “You’re planning on having sex with Akaashi?” He was both uncomfortable and embarrassed at the same time and it made him fidget.

He knew Suga was dating, quite seriously he might add, Akaashi, a psychology student at the university, who was a year younger than Suga and a bit too serious for Daichi’s liking. But knowing how happy Suga was with Akaashi didn’t make it any easier for Daichi to hear about them together.

He really was happy for Suga, for his best friend, whenever he was happy, and right now, Suga seemed very happy with Akaashi, so Daichi really tried his best to be supportive, and steeled himself to hear about their relationship, no matter how uncomfortable it might make him to hear about Suga having sex with Akaashi.

And he just repeated the same thing too many times to convince anyone that he was truly happy for Suga to be happy with Akaashi, with whom he planned to have sex with, didn’t he?

“Hmm, maybe, someday,” Suga answered. “I’m going to change out of this, I’ll be right back and you can tell me everything about the party and this someone you fell in love with.”

“Right, that.” Daichi took a sharp inhale. “Okay,” he added then, but Suga probably didn’t hear it, as he was already walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

With a sigh that was out of relief and that had a little bit of a given up air in it, Daichi went to the living room and sat on the light blue couch. As he waited for Suga to come back, hopefully dressed in something more appropriate that didn’t make him flustered, he took a look around. Kenjiro had moved out eight months ago, but his absence was still very visible in the apartment. For some reason Suga wasn’t much of a homemaker, which was odd if one knew what Suga’s mother was like – the ultimate mother hen wrapped up in an interior design magazine.

“Do you want something to drink?” Suga asked when he came back, thankfully dressed in a sweatshirt that was baggy and wasn’t see-through, and made his way straight to the kitchen.

“If you’re having something, sure,” Daichi replied, and then swallowed. “Are you really thinking of having sex with Akaashi?”

“... Maybe.”

Daichi frowned and turned in his seat to look over to the kitchen, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “Why the hesitation?”

Suga stopped mid-movement, just a short pause. “You know why,” he said when he was back on move and opening two cans of coke.

“How long have you been dating again?” Daichi asked.

“A couple of months. And stop asking more about me, you’re here so we can talk about _you,”_ Suga spoke as he came to the living room and handed one of the cokes to Daichi.

“Does Akaashi know that you’re still as unexperienced about sex as you were when you discovered porn?”

“Stop,” Suga pleaded with a slight chuckle. “And yes, he knows,” he then answered seriously as he sat down and threw his feet to rest against the edge of the coffee table.

“So you’re finally going to have sex? With Akaashi? You want him to be your first?” Daichi couldn’t help himself. It was killing him to think about Suga with anyone else, but there was some deep, dark need inside him to ask.

“We’ve talked about this before, Daichi. Let it go.”

“I’m not in a mood to sing right now.”

Suga laughed and lightly slapped Daichi’s arm with his amusement. “Tell me about the party.”

Daichi sighed as his soft smirk from his joke fell of his lips and prepared to give the sum of the party. “It wasn’t the worst, and the more I drank the funnier and more enjoyable it got.”

“And this someone you met didn’t have anything to do with the fact that you ended up enjoying the party?” Suga asked with a soft smile.

“I was drunk last night when I called you,” Daichi admitted a little sheepishly, looking away and out the window. “I might’ve exaggerated a little.”

“But you met someone,” Suga stated, the smile audible in his voice, Daichi’s mind conjuring the image for him from memory.

Daichi lowered his gaze to the can in his hand, playing with the edge of it with his thumb. He’d haphazardly come up with the white lie of meeting someone when his drunken brazenness had washed out of him and left behind nothing but his cowardice, too afraid to go forward with his alcohol induced plan of confessing his feelings for Suga.

So, now he had to come up with something to sell his lie. Which shouldn’t be hard, considering...

“Yeah,” Daichi breathed. “He was...” He trailed off as he didn’t really have an ending for his sentence. What had Iwaizumi Hajime been like?

The most striking thing, the one thing that had really clung onto him, was the kiss.

The most unexpected thing of the evening, the one thing that had sparked the idea of finally telling Suga how madly he was in love with him.

But he was hesitant of telling Suga about the kiss. Even though he could still feel the faint imprint of Iwaizumi’s lips on his, he still hoped that it was Suga’s lips.

If the kiss had done anything, it was solidifying that Daichi really had wanted it to be Suga who had kissed him. And he really couldn’t tell that to Suga.

He was well aware, painfully so, that Suga didn’t feel the same way about him, and confessing could affect their friendship. Actually, it really _would_ affect it, it could possibly mar it into a grotesque version of what it was now. If he told Suga... Suga would be really nice about it, of course. But wouldn’t that just make everything worse?

“Were you that drunk that you can’t remember?” Suga sounded amused.

“No, I was just thinking how to describe him.” Daichi looked up to Suga and saw the kind smile, the unwavering eye contact, and felt the uplifting heaviness of years of their friendship between them that allowed them to trust each other with everything.

“Is he a nurse like you?” Suga prompted.

“Uh,” Daichi hesitated for a moment as he decided to just lie. To do something he’d never thought he’d have to do with Suga, to Suga, to his best friend. “He’s a fireman.”

Well, it wasn’t a lie per say. Iwaizumi was a firefighter, but the feelings he’d tell Suga he’d allegedly had for the man, that was the lie.

Daichi felt nauseous.

“I’m already swooning,” Suga deadpanned, sounding a little serious.

“Come on, Suga,” Daichi chuckled, looking away and tilting his head as he leaned away a bit, a little embarrassed, nudging Suga with his elbow.

“No, I mean it. Firemen are hot.”

“He was pretty hot,” Daichi mused out loud, thinking back to Iwaizumi’s face and overall physique. Ah, his arms, the muscles... “Actually really hot.”

Daichi tried to think of more about the man to describe him to Suga, remembering little things he had noticed about him, and realized, to his own surprise, that he could be into Iwaizumi. And the rolling of his stomach eased up a little.

Suga laughed through his nose, drinking his soda. “What else?”

“He was... Grumpy.”

“Grumpy?” Suga interrupted.

“Yeah,” Daichi smiled as he visualized the expression. “He had this almost-scowl on the whole time, but he still didn’t look exactly mean, just seemed to be taking everything really seriously, but his face still livened up when he laughed. It, it was interesting.”

“Was the scowl what you fell in love with?” Suga snickered behind his coke.

“No,” Daichi laughed as well, and sobered quickly. “I didn’t mean it even though I said it last night. I was drunk.”

“Okay,” Suga agreed with a soft smile, and then softly smacked his lips together and reached to put his coke can down on the coffee table. “Did you get his number?”

“Uh, no.” Daichi admitted, grimacing a little.

“What? Why not?”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

Suga looked helplessly around the living room. “Did he ask yours?” he asked when his eyes landed on Daichi.

“No.”

“Then how are you going to meet him again?” Suga asked with an amused breath of exasperation. “I’m pretty sure that you weren’t wearing a perfectly fitting glass slipper that just fell when you ran from the party when the clock struck midnight and you were in a hurry to your pumpkin carriage before the horses pulling it turned back into mice. But if you did,” Suga paused for a brief moment, and continued with a very serious tone, stressing every word with importance. _“I need to know everything.”_  

Daichi frowned, once again a little confused. “Did you recently watch Cinderella?”

“I was reading the book. You know how I like the grime-y stuff, the cutting off toes and all.” Suga flipped his hand as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Daichi could only shake his head with disbelief. Suga was so odd at times, so cavalier about maiming and blood and gore when it only happened in stories and movies. When it was real life stuff, a crime or a murder, Suga couldn’t deal with it, but fiction he was okay with.

“Why were you reading the book?”

“Don’t change the subject, Daichi,” Suga replied and turned in his seat and crossed his legs in front of him. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that you had no intention of contacting this man, a firefighter, who you drunkenly declared you were in love with?”

Daichi took a moment, and then another, just breathing and thinking what to say. Because, as much as he had enjoyed the subtle flirting with Iwaizumi Hajime, he hadn’t been all that interested in the firefighter. And Iwaizumi Hajime in turn had said that he was still getting over a break up. So the exchange of contact information hadn’t crossed either of their thoughts.

“He said he was going through a break up,” Daichi decided to say as a way of an explanation. “I didn’t want to impose or suggest anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Suga’s face took on a concerned expression. “Are you okay, though? Knowing that you’ll probably never meet him again?”

“I’ll be fine, Suga. You know me, I’m comfortable being alone.” Daichi smiled to ease Suga’s worry, touched by the concern.

“That’s because you’ve had someone to fill that loneliness when it became too much.”

Daichi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Kuroo.”

“Oh.” It was Daichi’s turn to exhale with a dawning realization.  

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been alone for the past autumn though,” Daichi reminded Suga with lightness in his tone. “And it’s not like I’ve been looking for anyone. Busy with nursing school and all.”

“You could just move in here,” Suga suggested, probably for the hundredth time since Kenjiro had moved away.

It was a valid suggestion – Suga was living in a two bedroom apartment, alone, a little bit struggling with the rent even if he’d never admit to it and would never ask for help to pay for it. And weirdly, hadn’t even thought about moving away to a studio like Daichi’s.

It had something to do with Suga’s neighbors, Daichi knew. He knew how much Suga liked his neighbors and the semi-official open door policy that his apartment had.

And honestly, Daichi would _love_ to live with Suga.

If only he wasn’t so heartbrokenly in love with Suga, maybe then he’d be able to live with him.

“I like living alone, though,” Daichi said as a way of explaining why he wouldn’t move in with Suga. “Don’t need to worry about walking around the apartment naked after a shower, looking for clothes.”

“Just keep them in your closet,” Suga laughed, always frustrated with Daichi’s sloppiness when it came to clothes and storing them. “You know, like a normal person.”

“I like my system, thank you very much,” Daichi defended, taking a sip of his coke. “It works.”

“Does it? Really?” Suga asked with sarcasm coloring his voice. “Worrying about traipsing buck-naked in your apartment looking for clothes? Yeah, that sounds like a great system.”

“Shut up,” Daichi laughed with embarrassment from Suga’s teasing, pushing on his shoulder.

And this was why, this teasing, this easy talking, the sanctity of their friendship that they both relied on so  much, _this_ was the reason why he could never tell Suga how much he loved him, how much he wished to be more than just friends.

They’d lose _this._

Suga laughed with him, the sound of their layered laughter echoing in the room, filling Daichi with warmth and happiness.

 

 

And like that, life went on for Daichi. Days, weeks and months passed, and in middle of finishing his nursing school and graduating, he continued to be alone and irrevocably in love with Suga.

Until...

Until the day when Suga broke up with Akaashi, over reasons that Daichi had no clue of, and he felt the smallest sparkle of hope.

But it passed as fast as it had come, still too afraid to confess to Suga, especially so soon after the break up, too afraid to lose their friendship, and once again life continued as it was, and he and Suga remained best friends.

And Daichi was... He was okay.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“How are you doing, Hajime?” Matsukawa asked.

Iwaizumi looked up in a bit of a surprise and licked his bottom lip from the sauce. “I’m okay.”

“You and Oikawa any better?”

Iwaizumi dropped the chopsticks on his plate and brushed his fingers together to get rid of the non-existent crumbs there. “I’m not sure. I mean, we ran into each other at the gym and it wasn’t as weird or hostile as usual. But –“ he paused and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Matsukawa was nodding along as he spoke, a contemplative look on his face.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Just wondering,” Matsukawa shrugged in turn. “Makki and I are graduating, and we were thinking of going to my parents’ cabin to celebrate. Maybe you’d like to come too.”

“And you were asking me about Oikawa because you want him to come too?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to exclude him since we’re all friends with each other.”

Iwaizumi scoffed at the mention of all of them being friends.

“I just want to make sure that you and Oikawa would get along and try not to tear each other’s throats out.”

“If I’m not allowed to tear his throat out, can I at least strangle him?”

“Not without provocation.”

“Damn it,” Iwaizumi whispered, not at all serious.

Matsukawa chuckled. “So? Is it okay that he comes too?”

“I guess,” Iwaizumi shrugged, focusing on his food so he wouldn’t have to look at Matsukawa. He wanted to hide how uncertain he was about being in a same small closed space with Oikawa, of how he would be able to _not_ strangle Oikawa.

“It’d be nice to celebrate with friends,” Matsukawa said softly, clearly trying to sell the idea on Iwaizumi. “Like we did when we graduated high school, and the four of us went to the cabin for the weekend.”

Iwaizumi would have to agree with him. It would be nice to celebrate Hanamaki and Matsukawa graduating, with _friends._ But were he and Oikawa friends yet?

It had already been a year since the break up, and Iwaizumi certainly wasn’t in love with Oikawa anymore.

But he was still a little prickly about the whole thing, and Oikawa certainly didn’t make anything easier by being and acting like he was.

“Think about it and let us know,” Matsukawa said, looking at him like he’d read his thoughts just now. “We can do something else too. It doesn’t have to be a long weekend in closed quarters.”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaizumi promised, just in time before the doorbell was rang and Matsukawa got up to open the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Iwaizumi heard Oikawa’s voice say, and he turned his head to look to the door, to confirm that it really was Oikawa.

And there he was at the doorway, looking as tall and handsome as always, still favoring his left leg as he followed Matsukawa to the living room. Iwaizumi turned back quickly, the reminder of the injury just bringing up the break up and he really didn’t want to think about it when he was supposed to enjoy an evening with his friends and Oikawa.

“Don’t worry, you’re good. Makki’s still at work.” Matsukawa waved the apologies away as they joined Iwaizumi around the low table in the living room.

Oikawa followed Matsukawa’s example and sat down, across from Iwaizumi. “How did his job interview go?”

“He could tell you more about it himself, but he seemed pretty satisfied about it afterwards and the consensus of it was that it was good. He hasn’t heard anything yet, though.”

“There’s time,” Oikawa assured. “I see you’re ignoring me.”

Iwaizumi just ate more noodles in response to that, knowing that Oikawa was looking at him, probably making observations about every little thing he could see. The heaviness of his gaze weighed on Iwaizumi as he tried to ignore it, focusing on eating so he wouldn’t snap at him.

“Don’t fight, guys,” Matsukawa reminded them before they had the chance to even start to bicker. It was probably for good. Iwaizumi wasn’t really up to fighting with Oikawa that evening anyway. He would have to pull a night shift after the dinner, and would prefer to go to work in a good mood. He knew the fellow firefighters in the same shift would prefer it too.

Iwaizumi felt it when Oikawa moved his eyes from him, and thought it was safe to look up from his plate.

“What’s new with you?” Oikawa asked from Matsukawa.

Iwaizumi zoned out of Matsukawa’s reply – he’d already heard it all, having asked the very same question only a moment ago. He came back to the room at the sound of a beep, and saw Oikawa pull his phone from his pocket.

“Bat signal?”

Oikawa looked up to him from the phone, and then back down as he typed up a reply. “No, my sister.”

Iwaizumi watched him type in a _lengthy_ reply, and didn’t say anything until Oikawa was putting his phone away, face down on the table.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine,” Oikawa replied, picking up more shrimps. “Pregnant.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi was surprised. He’d had no idea she even was with anyone, married or just dating. But then again, the last time he’d heard _anything_ about Oikawa’s family was about a year ago, so... “How far along is she?”

“Twenty weeks.”

Matsukawa sputtered with laughter, drawing their attention.

“What?” Oikawa asked.

“I’m sorry,” Matsukawa laughed, wiping droplets of the beer he’d been drinking from his cheek. “It’s just, you said ‘weeks’. Isn’t twenty weeks five months?”

“Approximately,” Oikawa agreed.

“Then just say five months.”

“No way,” Oikawa grinned, brushing his hands on a napkin before he picked up his glass. “She’s going to be telling people her child is thirty-six months old when it’s three years old, and I’m going to encourage her in that all the way.”

“Just to piss off the guy she’s married to?” Iwaizumi guessed.

“He’s a dick, so yeah,” Oikawa said, as if it was obvious, and ate a shrimp while holding a steady eye contact with Iwaizumi, as if challenging him to dispute it.

“I didn’t know she got married?” Matsukawa said, a curious and confused frown on his face, clearly asking for a clarification of how he would’ve missed it.

“It wasn’t exactly broadcasted,” Oikawa answered, looking down to his bowl, picking on his food. “She got pregnant first so...”

“But why would she marry someone who’s a dick?”

“He’s the father of her baby,” Oikawa said, like it was a sufficient of a reason to marry the guy, his voice telling a whole different story, and Iwaizumi got the feeling that this was something that Oikawa’s sister had told him when he’d asked her why she’d marry the dick.

“But marrying someone who’s a dick just because of that?” Matsukawa asked, saying out loud what Iwaizumi was thinking. It didn’t sound like something she’d do.

“Oh, the marriage has my mother all over it, trust me,” Oikawa stated. “But the guy apparently makes my sister happy, so...” He finished with a shrug.

“Why is he a dick then?” Iwaizumi couldn’t help but inquire.

Oikawa seemed to consider the question, or maybe just mull over his answer, swallowing his food with care before he said anything.

“He’s a bit of a homophobe.”

“Oh yeah,” Matsukawa said immediately like he was convinced and didn’t need any more proof for or against the guy. It was decided. “He’s definitely a dick and I hate him too.”

Oikawa grinned, breathing out with laughter in the sharp exhale.

“Who do we hate?” Hanamaki interrupted, arriving at the perfect moment to ask it. “Is there still miso left. I have a hankering for it.”

“On the stove,” Matsukawa pointed behind him. “And hi,” he extended his other hand towards Hanamaki, who was already walking his way without the prompt.

Iwaizumi traded a look of annoyance with Oikawa as Hanamaki and Matsukawa shared a quick kiss.

“Can you not be disgustingly in love in front of us?” Oikawa moved his eyes to Matsukawa as he asked, Hanamaki already pulling out a bowl to ladle his soup in.

“You two were way worse in front of us,” Matsukawa replied easily, with a smile. “It’s payback time.”

“Great,” Iwaizumi deadpanned dryly. “It’s a dinner _and_ a show.”

“That wasn’t even a show,” Oikawa protested lightly. “At best, it was a preview. At least give us something good to watch. If that had been a movie trailer for the next disaster movie of aliens overtaking our planet, I wouldn’t go and watch the movie.”

“Let me eat first, I’m starving. You’ll get the show later,” Hanamaki grinned and made his point with his soup, spooning a mouthful. “So, who do we hate?”

“Oikawa’s sister’s husband.”

“She’s married?”

“And pregnant.”

“What?” Hanamaki looked between all of them. “Since when?”

Oikawa launched into the retelling of how his sister had found out she was pregnant and how she’d married the guy who knocked her up, and Iwaizumi leaned back with his beer and let himself enjoy the atmosphere of friendship. It had been a while since the last time he’d felt as relaxed in this group, and he realized, that he was with friends. All three of the people around the table making fun of the weeks versus months, were his friends.

Would it be like this always, if Iwaizumi could really be friends with Oikawa? If he could forgive his ex-boyfriend for breaking his heart?

It could be nice... And Iwaizumi... He would be okay with it. He would be okay.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Daichi leaned on the nurse’s station desk on his forearms, head dropped between his shoulders, exhausted and ready to go home.

“You alright there?” his colleague asked, a lovely and sweet older lady who Daichi had the utmost respect for. She had been doing this job for three decades, and Daichi knew she’d stuck it for the fourth as well. He had a lot to learn from her.

“I’m good,” Daichi answered her and straightened from his lazy lean to flash a smile to reassure her. “Just about ready to go home.”

“I hear you,” she echoed his sentiment with a weary smile of her own. “Why don’t you just go already? It’s barely five minutes until your shift ends.”

Daichi shook his head. He couldn’t do that. Even if some nurses got away with it by claiming that they’d made their rounds for the last five minutes as well, only to take that time to get to the lockers to change to go home. “No, I still have a patient I have to check in on before I can.”

“Oh, the new boy,” she said with a sympathetic frown.

Daichi nodded in affirmation. ‘The new boy’ was a seven year old kid with severe two degree burns from his unfortunate play with matches near easily flammable curtains.

“If I don’t see you anymore tonight, have a good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Daichi tapped his palm lightly on the counter.

“Take care,” she waved at him.

The hospital was busy, but when was it not, at the time of the early evening, with visitors coming and going to see their friends and family members, even in the pediatrics wing. Daichi half expected the boy’s parents to be in his room visiting by now as well – they had been worried about his state the day before and had refused to leave when visiting hours ended. It had been one of the toughest days so far for Daichi, to try and convince the parents to leave, reassuring them time and time again that their son was taken really good care off.

What he hadn’t expected was to see one of the firefighters from the crew Daichi knew had pulled the boy from the deathly flames.

For some reason he could recognize the back of the head, the strong back and even stronger arms.

“Hello,” he greeted the near stranger, Iwaizumi Hajime, he remembered his name. It might’ve been months since they met for the first and only time, but Suga’s occasional queries into his ‘Cinderella’ night had made it near impossible for him to forget.

Iwaizumi turned his head at his greeting quickly, clearly surprised by another presence in the room.

“Oh, hey,” he replied, a little awkwardly. “I just came to check how he’s recovering.”

Daichi smiled softly and politely at him, going to the boy’s bedside to do his usual check up on him. “It’s alright,” he told Iwaizumi, noting the distressed frown on the boy’s face. He must’ve been in pain, even in his sleep. He made a note of it to the folder for the doctor, knowing he’d never be able to track her down before his shift was over, and knowing how in demand she was when they were understaffed.

“How is he?”

“Recovering,” Daichi answered and put the folder down. “He’ll be just fine,” he added more reassuringly to Iwaizumi. “He was lucky.”

“He was stupid,” Iwaizumi stated in a severe tone, frowning. “He really is lucky to be alive.”

“Thanks to you.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze moved to meet Daichi’s in a brief eye contact.

“I wasn’t the only one answering the call.”

“But you’re the only one here to check on him,” Daichi said, instinctively moving closer to the frowning man. “I bet you’re the one who actually carried him out of the house.”

Iwaizumi didn’t reply immediately, their conversation, if you could call it that, coming to a brief pause. Not that Daichi minded when it gave him a chance to look the man over with a careful eye. They were about the same height – score! Daichi’s brain supplied the opinion – but Iwaizumi was clearly a lot stronger, probably spending a lot of time on keeping up with his training to stay in shape – double score! – and there was something hot in his serious expression and dark eyes. Daichi’s eyes kept straying to Iwaizumi arms, to the veins visible under his skin, the muscles straining the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

“How did you know?” Iwaizumi asked, still frowning as he turned his body fully to look at Daichi, who hastily flicked his gaze from admiring the man’s quite impressive physique. There was a faint hint of disbelief in his voice, as if he was in awe that Daichi had been able to guess.

“I was there when he was brought in,” Daichi answered with a warm smile. He wondered if it would be out of line to flirt with the man, even though technically he was on the clock for another two minutes. He wondered if the man remembered meeting him before.

If he remembered the kiss.

“Oh,” Iwaizumi exhaled, his frown de-intensifying.

“He is going to be fine,” Daichi repeated his earlier reassurance, deciding that flirting next to an injured child wasn’t morally right. “If you want, I can make sure that you know when he’s awake so you can give him a talking of how playing with fire is dangerous.”

“No, that’s too much,” Iwaizumi shook his head little. “I bet he got his lesson for life about fire.”

“True,” Daichi had to agree with him, looking over to the boy. But kids were resilient, they were brave in a way that adults could never be. If anything, the accident could be really effective in instilling a healthy respect for fire in the boy. Hopefully.

“Besides, what seven-year-old doesn’t already know not to play with matches?”

Daichi didn’t have an answer to Iwaizumi’s clearly rhetorical question, not any more than speculation. “Maybe he wanted to be tough, or a daredevil. Maybe he thought he could handle it. Maybe he was just curious.”

Any of those reasons could be true. After all, Daichi had a friend who had accidentally set fire to an entire warehouse filled with flowers when he lit a candle there. Who knew that fire spread so well with petals? Half of their group of friends were convinced that Nishinoya had known, and had set the fire on purpose. Others were just as convinced that it had been nothing but an accident. Daichi belonged into the first group, certain of his small friend’s latent disturbing pyromaniac tendencies. He was certain that Nishinoya had set the flower on fire to see what would happen, and had come up with a lie about the candle and an accident. At least the lie had kept him from ending up in prison for arson.

“Still stupid,” Iwaizumi reiterated his opinion.

Daichi smiled a little, Iwaizumi’s stubborn clinging onto the fact that the kid had been stupid just reminded him of people who cared too much but tried to hide it by acting the opposite way.

“My shift is over,” Daichi stated with a quick look at his wrist watch, already walking out of the room. “But it was nice seeing you again. Cool shirt, I like the band too.” He gestured to the vintage band-shirt Iwaizumi was wearing. He liked the band as well, enough to have a shirt or two with their logo or band name on it somewhere in his apartment.

“Wait.”

Daichi stopped with one foot in the hallway and turned to Iwaizumi with a questioningly raised eyebrow.

“See me again? You mean from when we brought the kid in?”

Daichi’s faint smile lessened with letdown. “No,” he shook his head, and continued on his way, leaving Iwaizumi alone with the kid. He didn’t think he’d be disappointed to learn that Iwaizumi didn’t remember him, but he was.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Iwaizumi couldn’t sleep that night. Not because he was worried about the child. He was certain the kid would be fine. He had endured some second degree burns in his life as well – a hazard of his job.

The reason he couldn’t sleep was the male nurse, his mind playing their conversation like someone had smashed the replay button so hard it was rendered into a state where it couldn’t be reversed.

He kept repeating every word exchanged from the moment the nurse had startled him from ruminations of how stupid the kid had been – and in his experience children could be really stupid since they hadn’t learned of the consequences their actions could have – to the very last ‘no’ and the tone of disappointment it had carried. Even the moments of brief silence, every pause between sentences, every look, it was all carefully dissected and evaluated.

Had they met before? Where? And when? And why did it seem like they were almost friends from the way the man had spoken to him, smiled at him?

His mind was blanking on any hints of recollection.

Maybe they’d met before at the hospital? The man was a nurse and it wasn’t Iwaizumi’s first trip there, as a visitor or a patient. They could’ve met before there. But, he had acted like they were familiar with each other... Was it possible that the nurse was just affable by his nature?

Iwaizumi sighed, deep and heavy and tired rush of air escaping him as he rolled over to his other side. Maybe lying on his left side would give him more help, unlock some secret compartment in his memory that would give him the desperately awaited ‘aha’-moment.

The more he played the visual reel in his memory in the hospital room, the more he focused on what the man had looked like. It really was getting late, Iwaizumi thought, if his mind kept drifting in that direction.

And yes, it might’ve been a while since he’d been with anyone. Some needs of his had been put on hold since the break up, and now when faced with a handsome man, they’d been reawakened.

And seriously?! Iwaizumi wanted to scream at himself out of frustration. It didn’t make any sense to him that he wouldn’t remember a man that good looking, with such a nice smile and reassuring presence.

The night turned into morning and Iwaizumi got up before his alarm, his eyes dry and tired, his body heavy from the night of zero hours of sleep and his mind muddled. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes, apprehensive of the twelve hour shift, knowing he’d have to be alert. He contemplated on calling in sick, so serious about it that he even had his phone in hand and the number picked already as he waited for his coffee to brew.

It was dripping so slowly. So unbelievable slowly he almost fell asleep watching the drops of coffee drip down, one after another.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

 

_Sawamura Daichi_

 

The name popped up to Iwaizumi, the color of eyes as dark as the coffee, easily to fall into.

And suddenly, he remembered. It was still hazy, but he could recall a party back in December.

It had been months, so he wasn’t too hard on himself for not remembering this Sawamura Daichi, especially with how drunk he’d gotten.

But Sawamura had remembered him.

 

_“So, Sawamura-san,” Iwaizumi turned his attention to the man standing next to him, close enough to feel the subtle warmth of his body even in the stifling and stuffy warm air in the packed hall._

_Sawamura interrupted him with a light chuckle, like his name had been one of the best jokes he’d heard in a while. “Just call me Daichi.”_

_Iwaizumi was taken aback by the unexpected familiarity, but he wasn’t put off by it at all. Not in the least. In fact, he was a little enamored by the smile Sawamura – excuse him, Daichi – smiled at him._

 

Iwaizumi was a little bit, just the teeniest bit, embarrassed of himself for not remembering Daichi. And he was quite sure that Daichi had been disappointed that he hadn’t.

 

Luckily, there was a way to correct that mistake. With a split-second decision, Iwaizumi hurried to get ready for work, packing up some nicer clothes to change into so he could stop by the hospital afterwards. Not that he had any particular need to impress Daichi, but a feeling that he wanted to.

An item of the ‘nicer’ clothes he packed might’ve been another band t-shirt, subconsciously selected and left un-ironed knowing it would be greased all over again in his bag.

 

 

...

 

 

“Excuse me,” Iwaizumi said to the nurse sitting behind the tall counter. “I’m looking for Sawamura Daichi. Is he working tonight?” he asked as politely as he could from the young woman smiling kindly up at him.

“Yes, I think he just went for a break... Oh, no, he’s right here,” she changed her answer in middle of it when the man in question appeared behind the counter as well.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi greeted him, and Sawamura, _Daichi,_ shifted his attention from the stack of folders he was carrying to him, a flicker of surprise on his face.

“Hey,” Sawamur- _Daichi, dammit,_ replied, albeit with a lot of hesitation in his tone. “Did you change your mind about that lecture to the kid?” he asked, a gentle smile taking a place on his face. He placed the heavy looking pile in his arms on the counter like it weighed nothing, and the other nurse took it down in smaller increments, starting immediately to put them away in the shelfing behind the counter.

“No, actually, um...” Iwaizumi glanced at the female nurse, and although she seemed to be immersed in her task, he decided to play it safe. “Could we talk somewhere in private?”

“Sure,” Daichi replied casually, and turned to address the other nurse. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” she said without a look at them, while Daichi returned his attention back to Iwaizumi and gestured for him to follow him.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you again, but,” Daichi said as he led Iwaizumi to an empty room, “why are you here?”

Iwaizumi liked that – Daichi was happy to see him – and he let the feeling, as strange as it was to feel so after such a long time since he last experienced it, settle somewhere deep inside him.

“I want to apologize for not recognizing you yesterday.”

“That’s okay,” Daichi said immediately, and he sounded like he genuinely meant it.

“Still, I’m sorry.”

Daichi looked at him for a moment, and Iwaizumi felt the need to fidget a little, maybe straighten his shirt hem, tug his jeans a little higher just in case they were about fall off, which was impossibility with the belt on, perhaps he should scuff his shoes to the floor a little. Just a little something to do so he wouldn’t feel so self-aware.

“You’re forgiven,” Daichi said then, before the moment had stretched too long, releasing Iwaizumi from the awkwardness.

Iwaizumi looked up with relief, a small but genuinely grateful smile on.

“If you buy me dinner.”

Iwaizumi had to carefully catch everything in that sentence. The tone that was maybe a bit on the flirtatious side, the smile and the mirth in Daichi’s expression, the overall sincerity in the suggestion that told Iwaizumi he absolutely meant it.

Daichi chuckled a little, the delighted sound pulling Iwaizumi from the notes he was meticulously taking.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to,” Daichi said, still smiling, confusing Iwaizumi. “You’re forgiven for forgetting me. You don’t need to worry about it. It was nice that you took the time to come and apologize to me, though.”

“Yeah, um...?” Iwaizumi frowned slightly, unsure of how to proceed. He didn’t think he would be so thrown off if he were asked out by someone, but here he was, completely unable to process the situation in a way that could offer him any ideas of what to do. It had been so long since the last time, and even then it had been someone he had known for years, someone he knew through and through. “You’re welcome?”

Daichi laughed at that, but Iwaizumi didn’t mind. He would’ve laughed too if someone would’ve said the same to him like a question.

“I should get back to work,” Daichi said then, already walking closer to the door. “Unless there was something else you needed?”

“No,” Iwaizumi shook his head, biting his bottom lip a little in indecision. “Thanks for forgiving me.”

Daichi laughed again. “No problem.” And with a wave, he left the room, leaving Iwaizumi behind in his own bafflement.

This had not gone at all like he’d envisioned it to. Not. At. All.

As he made his way out of the hospital, he couldn’t shake the disappointed feeling simmering inside him. Maybe he should’ve taken Daichi up on the dinner invitation.

Well, there was always a next time.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up right after the last one, after they met at the hospital the second time

 

 

 

That day, when Daichi left work, he was so immersed in his thoughts on Iwaizumi and their conversation that he didn’t realize he was already at Suga’s until he opened the downstairs door with his copy of the key. He’d made the commute on autopilot while he replayed every word he’d exchanged with Iwaizumi, trying to recall the exact tone he’d used. His mind might’ve been stuck on a glimpse of smile, subconsciously turning the corners of his lips upwards to something similar.

Which was probably why Asahi looked at him strangely as he let himself inside the apartment, the taller man already heating something up on the stove. The absolutely delicious smell filled Daichi with a warm feeling, his mouth already salivating, his stomach grumbling at the promise of food.

“What’s with the smile?”

Daichi faltered in his steps as he made his way to the kitchen, to take a better look at what Asahi was cooking, the smile on his face registering to him. And maybe Asahi was right to ask about it, since they were there for their worry over their friend. Maybe it was weird that he was smiling like that.

Daichi tried to purse his lips, twisting his face as he tried to school his muscles to relax, puffed his cheeks and made a deep frown – only to have his lips pull back into a smile.

He huffed at himself, and not wanting to know what Asahi thought about his ridiculous face exercises, dropped his head to peer into the pot, taking a lungfull of the delicious smell. It was also an attempt to hide the smile from Asahi. “I just had a good day at work,” he explained the smile away with something that could be plausible. And it was. It had been a good day at work, mainly just because of Iwaizumi Hajime’s visit.

“Did you hear about a permanent position yet?” Asahi asked, cautiously excited and hopeful.

“No, not yet,” Daichi shook his head, straightening away from his lean over and turned his head to look towards the hallway, where he assumed Suga was in his bedroom. “How’s Suga?” He was hesitating on whether go to get him or wait for him to come out on his own.

“He hasn’t been to school.”

Daichi’s eyes widened with shock, and a little bit of fear for Suga’s future. “Isn’t it finals time?”

“Almost,” Asahi nodded solemnly. “Do... Do you know?” he asked cautiously. “Did Suga tell you what happened?”

Daichi shook his head. “Just that they’d broke up.” He looked to Asahi with seriousness, helplessness filling him, not knowing what to do to cheer up his best friend. “That was the text. ‘Akaashi and I broke up’.”

“He sent me the same,” Asahi said as he turned back to the stove, while Daichi perked up.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he said with a put on enthusiasm at the sight of Suga emerging from the hallway with a rumbled bedhead.

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“You look like it.”

“I was studying.”

Well, that might explain the hair, if Suga had ran his fingers through it while he tried to study, a habit he already had in high school when he was thinking hard on a question in an exam.

“And I’ve been to school. I just skipped the Thursday’s lectures.”

Daichi shared a look with Asahi at Suga’s words.

“Your voices carry,” Suga explained to their silent question.

“You can’t skip classes, Suga,” Asahi reprimanded softly, understanding in his voice. They knew why Suga would choose to skip on Thursdays. They knew that Akaashi was in the same class with him on Thursdays.

“It’s fine. I explained to the professor that I was working on Thursdays and he sent me what to study on my own. “And I’m graduating soon, so it’s fine. I promise.”

“But are _you_ fine?”

Suga smiled gently at him. “You know me, Daichi. I handle break ups well.”

Daichi gave an appraising look to Suga, and he did _seem_ fine. And looked it too. And it had been a couple of weeks since it happened. But Suga was right – he knew his best friend well, and he could still tell that Suga was still struggling with it.

“But what happened, Suga?” Asahi asked, his concern lacing his voice.

Suga shook his head a little. “Let’s just eat, shall we?” He decided it for them as he went to get dishes, starting to set the table.

Daichi shared another look with Asahi, both of them ending it with a mutual shrug to just go with what Suga wanted.

It didn’t take them long to get settled down to enjoy Asahi’s cooking, while listening to him recount his past weeks interning at a preschool, the five-year-old terrors – Asahi’s words – he’d faced.

“They have teeth, Suga!” Asahi said with horror, clearly a little offended that his friend was laughing at his worries about little kids. “They can use them to bite me!”

“Why would they bite you?” Suga chuckled lightly. “You’re a giant teddy bear.”

“I don’t know,” Asahi said helplessly.

“Besides, I’m sure they’re more afraid of you than you are of them,” Suga added in a kind voice, gently punching Asahi’s shoulder.

“Suga is right about that,” Daichi agreed, glad, although cautiously so, to see Suga smiling and hear him laughing.

"And the girls would probably love to braid your hair," Suga continued.

And Asahi did seem a little cheered up by their pep talk. “Anyway,” he moved on from his insecurities to other things. “What’s going on with you, Daichi?”

“Hmm,” Daichi hummed as he thought of what was there to say, playing with the last shrimp in his bowl, saving it up to be the last delicious piece to eat. “We have a picnic with some of the other teams in the area next week,” he remembered, and looked up to his friends. “We’re going to play a few games and eat good food that everyone brings themselves. Do you want to come with?”

"I'm busy," Asahi answered with a regretful shake of his head, and Daichi nodded in understanding and looked to Suga. 

“I don’t really feel like going out,” Suga answered in turn, in the most sincere apologetic voice Daichi had ever heard him use. And it was about him feeling like he didn’t want to spend time with others when he was feeling down?

Suga was always the one to cheer everyone along, to give others confidence. He was the epitome, although with some slightly violent manners, of lifting spirits.

Daichi shook his head at Suga’s cleverly hidden despondency, trying to think of ways to cheer him up, to help him get over the break up, maybe to find out _why_ the break up even happened?

“Suga,” Daichi said seriously, reaching out to put his hands on Suga’s shoulders to turn him a little so he’d meet his eyes. “What happened?”

Suga bit his bottom lip briefly as he took a shallow breath. “We broke up. That’s what happened,” he delivered, like it was a mediocre piece of news, something that barely passed the threshold of being worthy of being news.

“Why did you break up?”

“Daichi,” Suga’s voice broke at the end of his name and he took a moment to gather himself. “I get that you want to understand what happened. I do. I really do. I would want to too if you’d broken up with somebody. But I’m not ready to talk about it.” His eyes moved to Asahi and back to Daichi, clearly speaking to both of them. His breathing was wavering as he paused, probably trying to get his thoughts out without breaking down. “We broke up. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Daichi said softly, accepting that Suga wasn’t ready. He kept glancing at Suga absently swirling the noodles in his bowl with the chopsticks while a silence took reign in Suga’s apartment.

“Um,” Asahi was hesitant, trying to come up with something to break the quietness. “Daichi, didn’t you say you had a good day at work?”

“Hm?” Daichi looked from Suga to Asahi, brought back from his worries, seeing Asahi eye at him to talk about something, _anything._ “Oh, yeah. It was,” he nodded with a small smile.

“Why is that?” Asahi asked kindly.

Daichi cast another worried glance at Suga before he answered to Asahi’s question. “Remember that guy that I met at the big party back in December?” he asked, turning his gaze back to Suga.

“Your Cinderella?” Suga looked up after a brief moment, after the question registered to him, with a small frown, clearly trying to think back.

Daichi nodded, but didn’t continue for a second or so to build up the story.

“I met him at the hospital.”

Suga’s eyes widened at the same time that Asahi asked who he was talking about.

“Please tell me you got his number this time,” Suga said seriously. “Please, tell me you got it.”

Daichi flashed a sheepish smile at Suga and shook his head.

Suga groaned with frustration, reaching over the table to grab onto Daichi’s shirt and shaking him. “Why?” he demanded to know.

Daichi chuckled, happy that he’d drawn Suga out of his depressive mood, even if it would only last a moment.

“What guy are you talking about?” Asahi asked again and Suga released Daichi’s shirt, sitting back with a huff.

“Just a random stranger I met a while back. We flirted a bit.”

“He’s a firefighter,” Suga added immediately after, like he was proud of Iwaizumi’s profession, as if his job added a whole new interesting level to who he was as a person.

“Why was he at the hospital? Was he hurt?” Asahi asked with genuine alarm in his tone.

Daichi chuckled lightly, slightly exasperated with a shake of his head as he followed his chopsticks swirling the noodles in the bowl. “No, he wasn’t hurt. And he’s more than just a firefighter.”

“Did you flirt with him again?” Suga leaned forward over the table with his arms resting on it.

Daichi thought whether to tell Suga that Iwaizumi hadn’t even remembered him first, and how he’d come back the next day to apologize for it. What he did decide, however, was not to reveal how he’d ‘jokingly’ asked Iwaizumi out on a whim and then taken it back one panicked moment later when he’d realized what he’d said.

“You flirted with him? Do you actually like him?”

“I mean –“ Daichi paused as he reheard Asahi’s words and caught onto the subtle pointedness underneath the general interest in his voice. He flicked his gaze to Suga to see if maybe he’d heard Asahi’s hidden question as well, but he seemed more fascinated to pick the tomatoes out of his bowl than he was to ask what Asahi really meant with his question.

“I did enjoy talking to him. And he likes the same band that I do,” Daichi answered honestly.

Suga’s head popped up from his food. “What band?” He made a face, as if he already knew what band he’d meant. “The loud one?”

“The one that you hate, yes,” Daichi confirmed and made a face right back at Suga.

“You’re hopeless,” Suga stated with a sigh, like he truly was disappointed in Daichi’s failings when it came to handsome men. “You two like the same band and you fail to get his number.” He shook his head as if he really couldn’t believe how Daichi would let such a rare opportunity slip by. “No one likes that band, except you. And then you meet someone who happens to like that band.” 

Daichi chuckled at Suga’s rambling, and met Asahi’s eyes, both of them smiling a little with relief that Suga really seemed okay. As long as the break up wasn’t brought up.

“Do you need another crash course on flirting?” Suga offered, and Daichi couldn’t believe it, but in real earnest voice.

“That’d be fun to see,” Asahi mused with a smile, knowing as well as Daichi that Suga... Lacked in skill when it came to flirting.

“No,” Daichi refused at the same time, his smile turning into a serious line of his lips. “No, Suga,” he added to make sure Suga got he was serious. “You’re terrible at flirting. You’re not helping me with it.”

“What do you mean I’m a terrible flirter?”

“Suga, no one ever realizes that you’re flirting with them.”

Suga turned to look at Asahi, who confirmed Daichi’s statement with an apologetic smile and a small nod of his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Suga turned back to Daichi.

“It’s okay, Suga,” Daichi flashed an assuring smile. “It hasn’t stopped people from noticing you and asking you out. Really, it’s okay.”

To him, it was a blessing that Suga was so abysmal at flirting or he’d been dead way before high school was over. Even Kuroo, once he’d picked up on what was Suga flirting with someone, had taken upon teasing Suga about it –  that he was so subtle that it was beyond good.

“I’m sure Daichi knows how to flirt with a firefighter anyway,” Asahi said with confidence in his friend. “He’s a nurse after all.”

Suga sputtered, catching onto Asahi’s joke before Daichi did, as he looked between his friends with confusion.

“What?”

“You’re a nurse – ” Suga started to explain.

And Daichi had to correct him. “Almost. Not yet.”

Suga flashed a patient smile at him, before continuing. “And he’s a firefighter. You can take care of him.”

Daichi still wasn’t getting it. What would their professions have to do with anything?

 _“Take care,_ take care,” Suga added with a heavy, meaningful press on his words.

Daichi finally caught on, his jaw dropping slowly as the realization of what Suga meant dawned on him. “You’re horrible,” he groaned, directing the words to both his friends.

Suga and Asahi laughed, while he dropped his head down, his forehead coming to his forearms resting on the low table to hide his blush.

“Daichi,” Suga voiced his name kindly. “Next time you meet him –“

Daichi lifted his head when Suga didn’t continue, knowing he’d paused to have his attention, to look up at him to know how serious he was with his encouragement.

“Promise me you’ll get his number.”

 

 

...

 

 

 _“You’re not bailing out on us,”_ Hanamaki said harshly.

Iwaizumi sighed, long and drawn out, as he gazed beyond the railing of the balcony from his seat on the cold floor.

“I don’t really feel like going out.”

He wasn’t really feeling like doing any socializing, the most recent fight he’d had with Oikawa still souring his mood. This particular fight hadn’t been anything new really, but it still stung the same as they all did.

He had finally managed to find a new apartment, _finally_ moved out of the apartment he’d shared with Oikawa for a couple of years, and Matsukawa had commended him for it. They’d gone to ‘celebrate’ the move by driving up to IKEA to buy him a couple of sizeable drawers that he could just dump his clothes to.

 _“It’s not clubbing, or eating at a restaurant,”_ Hanamaki reasoned in a patient tone, clearly cautiously trying to reel Iwaizumi back into the plans. _“It’s a volleyball game.”_

“With a picnic attached to it.”

_“You can skip the picnic. Just come to play, and once we win because we will win, you can leave.”_

Iwaizumi sighed again, feeling the itch to go and play, release some of the tension the fight with Oikawa had brought on, maybe have some fun playing with friends, and inevitably winning. Their team had yet to lose a game in the make-shift league of four friend-group teams that had sprung up from them continuously playing against each other.

_“Besides, think of what you might miss if you don’t go.”_

Iwaizumi recognized the smile in Hanamaki’s voice and smirked in response. “What are you planning?”

_“I’m going to have Kyotani to challenge you to arm wrestle, and win some of the money back that some people still haven’t paid to me.”_

Of course, Iwaizumi thought.

 _“Whatever’s making you think you don’t feel like going out, I’m sure playing a game or two of volleyball will do you a load of good.”_  

Iwaizumi appreciated the softer, understanding tone Hanamaki was using without any of the pity present he had come to hear from his friends and friend’s friends when they heard what had happened. But his tone had a clear edge to it too that told Iwaizumi that he knew what the ‘whatever’ was.

_“And I know that you don’t want us to lose to the crows. I hear they have a new player.”_

Well, that certainly was incentive enough for Iwaizumi to push himself up from the floor and step inside to back his trainers and quickly throw a this and that from his kitchen to pass of as something he’d bring for the picnic.

“I’ll see you at the park in an hour,” he promised.

 _“Good, another opportunity not missed,”_ Hanamaki said before Iwaizumi ended the call.

 

 

...

 

 

The new player of one of the four teams...

Iwaizumi couldn’t believe his eyes, or his luck, or the many chances he was given to meet Sawamura Daichi, as he looked through the make-shift net to the other side of the court.

Their team had lost, for the first time ever since the beginning of their mini-league, to the crows. Most likely thanks to the new player, Sawamura Daichi, and his strong receives.

Wherever they had found him, the crows had lucked out.

And Iwaizumi’s team wasn’t particularly happy about the loss, but they weren’t down in the dumps about it or looking for someone to blame either.

That wasn’t the purpose of the sort of-picnic.

No, the purpose was to have fun, play a bit of volleyball, eat good food, enjoy the beautiful spring weather, and mingle with friends.

Iwaizumi’s teammates, to his annoyance, had found a new purpose as well – teasing him.

“Who is he?” Hanamaki asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

Iwaizumi didn’t need to turn to where Hanamaki was looking to know who he was talking about. Ever since he’d arrived to the park, ready to kick some ass and hit the balls hard on the other side of the net, Sawamura Daichi had discreetly, and then not so discreetly, kept casting glances towards him.

Not that Iwaizumi hadn’t done the same, practically calling attention to it with the nothing but subtle looks that seemed to resonate something between him and Sawamura. The looks they kept trading, and shooting when the other was looking only to be caught looking by one another had been glaring as hell to everyone else to notice.

They could’ve just said “hey” and “nice to see you again” and explained their familiarity with each other with just that they’d met before at a party, and then later by coincidence at the hospital.

But no, they had to be weird about it, as if their earlier meetings somehow made it impossible for them to act normally, causing everyone to notice that there was something else between them.

And even though Iwaizumi didn’t need to look, he couldn’t help himself. He glanced, moving as little as possible so he wouldn’t alert Hanamaki to the movement, and saw Sawamura Daichi talking with someone in his team.

Iwaizumi shifted his gaze to his friend openly watching the new player of their rival team, wondering why he’d ask about Sawamura Daichi. He wasn’t jealous, or possessive, just a little suspicious, and curious to find out the reasoning behind Hanamaki’s interest in the new player. “Why?”

“He keeps flirting with you.”

Iwaizumi frowned, snapping his head back to look forward. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does,” Hanamaki said with a small chuckle as he moved to stand in front of Iwaizumi to have his attention. “Can’t you tell?” He peered past Iwaizumi to look at Daichi, or so Iwaizumi presumed and with a yet another quick glance to the same direction, verified.

“He’s not flirting with me,” Iwaizumi said with vehemence as he turned his head back before Daichi could notice the staring. “He’s just being friendly.”

“Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki said with serious tone, his hands coming down on Iwaizumi’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “He’s flirting with you.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. There was no way. The looks Daichi kept sending him weren’t flirtatious. Or, maybe they were. And maybe that was the reason for the palpable current of _something_ between them that the others had picked up on.

He cast a swift glance at Daichi again, just quickly looking over his shoulder as subtly as possible. Daichi was nodding along to something his teammate was saying, a gentle smile on his lips.

Iwaizumi turned back again and took a long drink of water. Daichi wasn’t smiling the same way at him as he did to his teammate. The way Daichi smiled at him was more... Just more.

“He keeps looking your way,” Hanamaki continued in a superior tone and knowing smile. “You should go talk to him.”

Iwaizumi exhaled, reminiscent of a deep sigh. He was certain that Daichi hadn’t been flirting with him. But, _but,_ there was a small and a little bit annoying voice in his head telling him that Hanamaki was right, that Daichi _was_ flirting with him.

Maybe he wasn’t so far off with thinking that there was more to the flirtation back at the hospital.

It had been Daichi who had mentioned the dinner. And Daichi had pointed out his shirt and praised the band. Had stood quite close to him. Not inappropriately close, but closer than two strangers would unless stuffed like sardines into a busy Tokyo subway.

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi had anything against being flirted with. Especially if it was from Daichi. There was something calming and comfortable in his presence, a sense of completeness of being himself. Or, at least that’s how Iwaizumi had left feeling when he had been in the same room with Daichi.

Besides, he wasn’t bad to look at, not at all. If Iwaizumi was to base his opinion about someone solely on how they looked like, he’d definitely find Daichi extremely interesting.

But there was more to what had caught Iwaizumi attention in Daichi than just his physical looks. It was the air that he carried around him, the way he interacted with others that drew Iwaizumi’s eye to him. Just to catch that gentle smile, maybe have it directed towards him.

And he was wearing a shirt with the logo of Iwaizumi’s favorite band.

So, they had at least one thing in common.

Unless Daichi was one of those people who’d wear a band shirt to appear cool without knowing anything about their music. Iwaizumi really wished that wasn’t the case and held on hope that he was genuinely a fan who listened to the band like an avid fan, like he did.

“Go talk to him,” Hanamaki nudged, pushing on Iwaizumi to force him take a step or two towards Daichi.

“What? No.” Iwaizumi refused, taking the two steps he’d been pushed forward back. He could tell that Hanamaki was excited about the interest Daichi, according to him, was exhibiting and was waiting for the gloat to come about having missed this opportunity if he’d stayed home sulking.

“You broke up a year ago. You need it.”

“What ‘it’?” Iwaizumi asked, both baffled by what Hanamaki meant, and disturbed that he was taking so much interest in this. Then again, he could understand why.

“You need to talk to someone who’s interested in you.”

“He’s not interested in me.”

“A-ha,” Hanamaki voiced like he didn’t believe Iwaizumi one bit, and smirked. “And he’s not coming this way right now.”

Iwaizumi’s frown intensified. “Stop. He’s not.”

“He is,” Hanamaki snickered. “Want me to laugh really loudly so he thinks you said something funny?”

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi hissed in a low voice through his teeth.

Hanamaki still laughed, too loud and extremely obnoxious with it.

Iwaizumi grit his teeth together, annoyed by Hanamaki’s behavior and insistence. There was no way that Daichi had been flirting with him – he ignored the small voice in his head insisting otherwise, his left brain stronger than his right – and he saw from his peripheral how Daichi walked past them.

“See?” he asked pointedly when Daichi was several paces past them.

“He didn’t stop to talk to you because I was here,” Hanamaki said, his voice so smug Iwaizumi wanted to smack his vocal chords. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he declared in a cheerful voice and clapped Iwaizumi on his shoulder as he left him standing alone by the tree, probably off to call Matsukawa about the interesting development in Iwaizumi’s life.

Iwaizumi turned purposefully towards the field to keep his back to Daichi, silently cursing at Hanamaki for putting ideas in his mind. He might’ve been just the tiniest bit disappointed that he’d been wrong about Daichi coming to talk to him. There was no denying that it would be nice to talk to him, not flirt with him, just talk.

Okay, fine.

He wouldn’t exactly hate the flirting.

“Hey.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened when he heard the quickly-becoming-familiar voice behind him, and a second later a body was standing next to him, looking out towards the field as well.

“You know that you’re still forgiven for forgetting about me, right?” Daichi asked with a hint of amusement in his strong but gentle voice. “You don’t need to avoid me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Daichi, just to confirm that the smile he’d heard in the voice was really present on his face – it was –and offered a small smile back.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“It feels like you have.”

Iwaizumi dropped his head for a brief second to hide his embarrassment. He had just been called out, so don’t be too hard on him for it.

“I’m sorry,” he lifted his head up to say, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “I didn’t mean to avoid you.”

“It’s okay,” Daichi chuckled softly. “I just came to check that you still remember me.”

Iwaizumi really tried _so hard_ to ignore the small voice that told him that he was being flirted with. He tried as hard as he could but the small voice wasn’t that small and quiet anymore and sounding more and more reasonable.

But the fact remained that Daichi was smiling at him – gentle and kind and about twenty other nice things – and it made him unable to move. He was literally afraid that his knees would buckle, or his legs would crumble from under him if he made even the smallest movement.

“You’re hard to forget,” he managed to smile back. It had been a long time since he’d last flirted with anyone, and that had been with Oikawa who got his feathers smoothed by flattery. Who knew what would work on Daichi.

“Am I?”

Iwaizumi was quite sure that Daichi was teasing him for forgetting him before and he chuckled to lessen the sting of embarrassment.

Luckily, the awkwardness that he was waiting to come up and fill the beats of silence in their conversation didn’t come up, didn’t make the atmosphere of their talk unbearable, and it made Iwaizumi feel more relaxed in Daichi’s presence. If only a little bit, but it was still a relief.

“I was drunk at the party,” he groaned lightly through his chuckles. “And it was months after that we met again.”

“I know,” Daichi said, his sympathy letting Iwaizumi of the hook. “I’m a little disappointed that the kiss wasn’t more memorable, though.”

“Wait what?” Iwaizumi was shocked. A kiss? When? Where? With Daichi? AND HE COULDN’T REMEMBER IT? Did it really happen or was Daichi just pulling his leg?

“We kissed?” he double-checked in a lowered, darker voice.

Daichi nodded sagely.

Iwaizumi brought his hand to cover his face in shame. Not for feeling ashamed for kissing Daichi, but for forgetting it, and acting so rash and impulsive when he was drunk.

“Don’t worry,” Daichi chuckled out of sympathy, and probably because he was amused by Iwaizumi’s reaction. “It was a good kiss.”

Iwaizumi groaned and took a breath to let it out in a rush as he dropped his hand and looked at Daichi peevishly. “I’m sorry.”

Daichi cocked his head slightly to the side as his gaze turned just as slightly scrutinizing. “What are you apologizing for exactly?” he asked curiously.

Iwaizumi was relieved that at least Daichi didn’t seem offended of being kissed by a man – the small voice inside Iwaizumi’s head louder than ever, practically yelling at him through a megaphone now – but maybe a little hurt that Iwaizumi didn’t remember it happening.

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember it.”

Daichi’s smile grew a little wider and a lot brighter before he hid it by pressing his lips together, and he glanced over his shoulder towards everyone else at the picnic, at the same time reminding Iwaizumi that they weren’t alone but surrounded by other people who had eyes and ears and probably a lot of opinions.

“You know,” Iwaizumi started with a little hesitation in his voice, wavering on whether to go forward with his idea before making the decision on fly. “Maybe I could take you out for that dinner?” He lowered his voice so it wouldn’t travel to possible eavesdroppers or passers-by.

“Yeah?” Daichi asked at the same time that his phone made a sound of notification. “Sorry,” he apologized immediately, pulling his phone out. “My best friend is going through a break up and I’m worried about him.”

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi brushed the unnecessary apology off. He watched Daichi’s hands as he typed a reply to the message he got. “Is your friend okay?”

Daichi nodded with a sigh and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “He’s just taking the break up hard, and I’m not sure how to help him when I don’t even know why they broke up. It was sudden.”

Iwaizumi hummed in sympathy. He could understand completely what it felt like going through a break up that came out of nowhere.

“Have you ever had to help your friend through a break up?” Daichi asked for advice.

“No, but I did break up from my best friend.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened for a fraction, but that only due to his willpower not to show his bewilderment for revealing that to Daichi.

Daichi looked up from his phone, but Iwaizumi couldn’t read his expression. Was he disappointed? Elated? About two seconds away from making an excuse and walking away?

Iwaizumi was about two seconds away from walking away himself. Until –

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

And Daichi sounded so sincere with it Iwaizumi couldn’t feel anything but relief, and strangely, not pitied.

“Was that the break up you told me about in December?”

A frown came to Iwaizumi’s face. “I told you about that?” He couldn’t remember talking about it. But then again, he couldn’t remember most of what he and Daichi had talked about, or what they’d done. He was still feeling embarrassed about the kiss and for not remembering it _at all,_ even though Daichi had already absolved him from that.

Daichi’s smile was so gentle there were no other words to describe it. It was as if he knew exactly how Iwaizumi would’ve felt when the break up happened, how he felt right now when he was over it, or trying his hardest to get over it.

“Was it before or after the kiss?” Iwaizumi asked before Daichi had the chance to answer his previous question, already mentally wincing about the awkwardness the kiss must’ve brought between them no matter when it happened.

“After.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t make up his mind whether that was better than if it admitted to the break up before the kiss.

“It didn’t change anything,” Daichi said, and Iwaizumi wondered if he’d read his mind. “It was still a good kiss.”

Iwaizumi drank the last of the water in his bottle, taking time to think of what to say next. How to save the conversation. The awkwardness hadn’t been there, but now he could feel it creeping in, just the faintest of tentacles of the uncomfortable feeling starting to wrap around him.

“It is a little awkward, isn’t it?” He had to acknowledge it, if only to hear Daichi’s opinion about it too. “That I kissed you, and that I was drunk when I kissed you, and then probably explained it away with talking about the break up. It’s making ‘this’-“ he made a gesture with his hand, encircling them, ”awkward.”  

Daichi glanced behind them, then fixed his steady gaze on him. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say... Something... But he didn’t really have anything to say to that. Apparently, and more clearly than freshly washed glass, Daichi didn’t regret the kiss at all. He opened his mouth again, ready to say something now, when his thoughts were brought to a halt when a ball hit his back.

“Come on!” A teammate of his shouted, beckoning for him to join them. “The game’s starting.”

Iwaizumi turned back to Daichi and flashed a small apologetic smile. What for? He wasn’t sure, but he did want to talk to Daichi more, with or without the awkwardness. Preferably without and Daichi seemed capable to dissolve it with his reassurance and gentle smiles.

Oh, how Iwaizumi liked those smiles.

“We better go or they’ll start throwing more things at us,” Daichi chuckled, picking up the ball and jogging up to the makeshift court.

 

 

...

 

 

Walking from the man-made park, Daichi was only regretting one thing. And he knew that Suga would probably beat him up this time, not just shake him like he was trying to get a candy bar from a vending machine, for forgetting to get Iwaizumi’s number. Again.

 

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cackling for no reason whatsoever (and if you believe me, bless your hearts)


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth as he tried to deal with the pain radiating in his ankle.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he chanted to himself as he thought back in annoyance of what happened.

It was such routine to him already, to slid down the pole. To take a hold of it, wrap his feet and legs for a smooth glide down and land safely on the ground.

But no.

Today he had to land very badly.

”I was hoping to meet you again, but I really didn’t want it to be like this.”

Iwaizumi was brought out of his self-deprecating thoughts by a familiar voice that shouldn’t be called familiar yet, but somehow just was. He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze from the ceiling, his head still slightly tilted back against the wall behind him, meeting a pair of familiar eyes. He had wanted to meet again as well, but not in these circumstances. For one, he’d wished to not be hurting, or sweaty, or hungry and thirsty. Or at the hospital as a patient. And he was wearing the wrong clothes too. It made him feel a little self-conscious when faced with someone dressed for _their_ profession and looking unbelievably important in nurse’s scrubs.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly, trying to untwist his scowl away. He didn’t want to scowl at Daichi, at someone who had nothing to do with his injury, or at someone who he’d rather smile at – as foreign as that realization was.

“Um, I didn’t know you worked at the ER.” He looked around in an attempt to decipher a reason for Daichi to be there from his surroundings.

“Normally I don’t,” Daichi shrugged, inspecting Iwaizumi’s injury with gentle hands, lifting the now warm icepack off. “But they were understaffed here and I had some free time to pick up an extra shift.”

“Oh.” Iwaizumi’s breath was knocked out of him by the tentative, careful fingers appraising his injury, and he swallowed tightly. He wasn’t used to the caring touch, this kind of contact from someone he barely knew, from someone he was attracted to.

“What happened?” Daichi looked up to him as he stood up from his crouch, the useless icepack in his hand.

“Bad landing from a pole.” Iwaizumi looked at his swollen ankle and then up to Daichi. “At the fire station,” he quickly clarified when he saw Daichi’s expression. “Not a strip- Um, you know.”

Daichi nodded, his peculiar expression turning back into a smile.

“Can you fix it?” Iwaizumi tried, the pain in his leg demanding not just to be noticed but attended to.

Daichi smiled at him apologetically. “I’m only a nurse, I’m not allowed to. They’ll call you when a doctor is available.”

Iwaizumi rest his head back on the wall behind him as he accepted his fate to wait, and closed his eyes to sigh, trying his best not to show his impatience. His ankle was throbbing, hurting, and aggravating him through and through.

It was hard to be charming when he was inconvenienced like that.

“I’m surprised you’d be here only for a twisted ankle.”

“I wouldn’t be. We’re pretty sure that it’s broken and I need x-rays to find out.” Iwaizumi opened his eyes to look at Daichi again, unable to _not_ look at him. It hadn’t been long since he’d last seen him at the park, and he already couldn’t wait to see him again somewhere, anywhere.

“We?”

“Firefighters in my squad.”

“Right, of course,” Daichi said with an embarrassed smile.

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi assured him.

Daichi cleared his throat, and took a swift look around. “I can get you some pain medication,” he spoke quietly, barely audible over the noise of the emergency room, which was probably intentional on his part. Iwaizumi closed his eyes again to focus on mind winning over matter, aka the throbbing pain in his ankle. “But you have to remember to tell the doctor that you’ve already gotten some.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi nodded, his eyes closed, trying his hardest not to sound too eager about it. He could sense it when Daichi left his side, the chatter of the emergency room surrounding him, making him feel utterly alone in middle of the bustle and hustle of patients and doctors, nurses and relatives of the patients. First he had felt like he’d made the wrong choice when he’d told the squad that he didn’t need any of them to play babysitter to him and keep him company, but now he was rather glad about it though. He was quite certain that he wouldn’t have had the moment with Daichi if someone had sat next to him, listening to every word just to tease him about it later.

“I’ll put on a new icepack on your ankle,” Daichi said once he was back, bringing Iwaizumi back from his lonely ruminations. “Remember to keep it elevated.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi tried to smile. He felt the coldness immediately on his sore ankle, but it was welcomed and his initial hiss turned into a sigh.

“And here’s something for the pain. Take it when no one is looking.” Daichi covertly offered a couple of pills to him in a small paper cup.

Iwaizumi chuckled as he accepted them, and the bigger paper cup filled with water, as he sat up a little straighter so he wouldn’t dribble the water all over his face when he drank. “You’re really strict about medication here.”

“We can’t just give it to anyone,” Daichi explained with a shrug, kind of apologizing with it. “Remember to tell the doctor, but if you could maybe leave my name out of it.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t snitch on you,” Iwaizumi assured, swallowing the pills down as he made sure that no one was paying much attention to them.

“Thanks,” Daichi said in a form of a sigh. “I have to get back to work.”

Iwaizumi understood that Daichi’s sigh was out of disappointment, and he couldn’t help but share the feeling.

“If you’re still here on my next break I’ll come and say hi.”

Iwaizumi wanted to say that that wasn’t necessary. He was sure that the wait wouldn’t be much longer anymore, he’d already been an eternity there. But even more than that, he wanted to see Daichi again, so he said nothing, only nodded in agreement and watched Daichi walk away, back to the throngs of busy people flitting from patient to another. He was teetering between wanting to get the hell out of the hospital as soon as possible after the state of his ankle was clear, and letting a couple of people with broken noses and allergic reactions to go before him just to make sure that he’d get to see Daichi again.

 

 

...

 

 

He didn’t see Daichi again that day, though, much to his dismay. Believe it or not. He had missed the sight of that gentle smile Daichi always seemed to have reserved for him. He could still feel Daichi’s soft touch on his ankle, although the rational part of his brain told him the ghost-touch was just the pain from his injury.

For some reason though, and not that it was hard to believe at all either, he preferred to think that his mind had immortalized Daichi’s touch for him to call back on it whenever he felt like it.

Like right now.

He could feel the gentle hands turning his foot as it was inspected, the warm fingers carefully skirting around the swollen part. The memory brought a small smile on his lips, one he would be sure to wipe away if he was in the presence of anyone else. For now, he was safe to imagine, to remember.

Some other good news did come out of his visit to the hospital too – his ankle wasn’t broken. Luckily. But he had twisted it quite severely, bad enough to require a brace on it when he walked. He’d waved away the offered crutches, knowing that he’d only need them for a couple of days, and he knew he’d spend those couple of days mostly vegging on his couch. He could hop on one foot to the bathroom when needed.

He knew it would be embarrassing if he was to fall down or trip while hopping, and if anyone found out, mortifying. His friends would dutifully laugh at his misfortune of falling when hopping on one foot because he’d been too headstrong to admit that he’d need the crutches – which he didn’t need.  But no one needed to know if he stumbled. He didn’t need to hear the ‘I told you so’s’.

Besides, at the moment, he was safely tucked on the small couch, his foot elevated on a pile of pillows he’d pulled from his bed only a couple of steps away in his small studio apartment.

However, without the crutches, he was more or less stuck at home and in the mercy of his friend getting him the pain medication he’d been prescribed to.

“Pill run!” Matsukawa shouted from the door when he came in, throwing the bag from the pharmacy the short distance into Iwaizumi’s lap.

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi replied, grateful for his friend to volunteer to get the under the counter, strong as hell, pain medication he had been prescribed. “Next time, though,” he looked up from the bag he was rifling through. “Don’t announce that you have drugs so loudly. What will my neighbors think?”

“They don’t care,” Matsukawa waved his hand casually as he went to get a glass from the cupboard over the sink in the kitchen. “Besides, it’s just pain killers.”

“Strong ones.” Iwaizumi opened the package and pulled out the leaflet with the user warnings, reading them with a furrow in his brow. The various side effects were only in rare cases, and he’d never had any before so maybe he’d be safe now too.

“That you have a valid excuse to have because you have a prescription for them, _and_ your ankle’s twisted.”

“And narcolepsy is treated with amphetamine.”

“And your point is?” Matsukawa handed him the glass of water.

“That drugs are addictive, no matter what they are for.”

“Take your addictive drugs then.” Matsukawa nudged him and came to sit next to him on the couch, their arms brushing due to the small size of the seat. “They’ll help with the pain.”

Iwaizumi sighed, and did as told. “I would’ve been fine with the over the counter stuff.”

“Then why didn’t the doctor prescribe that?”

Iwaizumi shot Matsukawa a look, and put the empty glass down on the low table.

“Makki says you’re out of the games for a while.”

Iwaizumi sighed as he leaned back, closing his eyes as he waited for the pain to subside, appreciating the change in subject. The movie he’d put on earlier, selected because it was the first one on the list of suggestions provided to him – and that had been his profound and careful selection process and hard thought –as just something to have on the background so his apartment wouldn’t be so quiet, kept playing on without much attention paid to it.

“He also says that you met someone in the last game. At the park.”

Iwaizumi’s cheeks warmed up at the mention of Daichi.

“He’s lying.”

“And you’re blushing,” Matsukawa said with glee. “Who did you meet?” He shifted on the couch to turn to face Iwaizumi. “You never blush.”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, slumping lower on the couch as if that would hide him. It did seem to work, for Matsukawa didn’t say anything for a while. Iwaizumi could still feel the gaze on him as he tried to ignore it and the way it made his skin crawl and tried his least to figure out what was going on in the movie.

“I’m happy for you.”

Matsukawa spoke so softly Iwaizumi had to look over to see it, to witness it.

“I’m happy for you,” Matsukawa repeated. “This could be good for you. It’s been a year and I was really worried that you’d never get over the break up. This is good.”

Iwaizumi turned his head away again to look at the television, but not paying any attention to what was on it. “I think so too,” he admitted, albeit with a frown. “But I need you to keep a distance. No meddling. Same goes for Makki,” he looked at Matsukawa as he spoke seriously, holding the eye contact to make sure that his friend understood to keep their distance, and once again moved his gaze back to the screen as if it would magically clear up the storyline to him, catch him up on what he’d already missed. “Oikawa can’t know.”

“Why don’t you want him to know?” Matsukawa sounded baffled.

“He’s going to be bitchy about it.”

“He’s the one who broke up with you. It was his choice. I don’t think he’d begrudge you for moving on.”

Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the break up, the unhappy memories associated with it brought back. “It’s Oikawa,” he pointed out rather sullenly, shooting a glance at Matsukawa.

Matsukawa let out a weary kind of sigh, understandably, for this wasn’t the first time Iwaizumi had brought up Oikawa as a reason to... Well, not move on.

“At least tell me about this someone.”

“There’s nothing to know.”

“You’re still blushing.”

“I don’t blush.”

“Then you’re just spontaneously turning a lovely shade of pink, in which case, Oikawa was right. You _are_ an alien.”

Iwaizumi growled under his breath, damning his circulation for easy redness to show on his cheeks. “I don’t even know him.”

“You know enough to know you like him. Come on.” Matsukawa nudged him with an enthused smile. “Tell me about him. I won’t reveal anything to Oikawa. Scout’s honor.”

Iwaizumi snorted, eyeing the hand raised like one would to make a vow with dubiousness and great distrust. “You’re the farthest thing from a scout and have none of the honor.”

Matsukawa dropped his hand and his expression flashed with offence. “I won’t tell him.”

Iwaizumi took a good, studious look at Matsukawa’s softened expression as he heard his earnest voice. And believed him. He looked away as he let out a breath, surrendering. “I think I like him.” He scratched his neck. “A bit.”

“Good. What else?” Matsukawa encouraged him to go on.

“We like the same band.”

A silence followed his statement, punctuated by Matsukawa’s incredulous voice breaking it. “That’s all? That’s why you like him? He listens to the same music as you do?”

Iwaizumi frowned. “I told you I don’t know anything about him.”

“There must be something else too.”

“There isn’t anything. Really. Well, he’s a nurse. But that’s all.”

“Is that how you met?”

“Stop interrogating me.” Iwaizumi could tell he was about to blush again. There was just something about Daichi’s caring nature, gentleness that had an effect on him. And the flirting, he knew, had made a number on him as well. It had been a long time since he’d flirted with anyone, or anyone had flirted with him. _Or since he’d kissed anyone,_ he thought as he felt the heat on his cheeks intensify.  

Matsukawa chuckled next to him, probably noticing the blush anew. “Does he like you? Is it mutual?”

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi shrugged.

“I think you do,” Matsukawa disagreed, his voice and eyes gentle. “Makki said he kept stealing glances at you. And that you two talked, standing close to each other.”

The memory of the day at the park, of the conversation with Daichi floated back to Iwaizumi’s mind, the thrill of realizing that maybe Daichi was flirting with him, the excitement of flirting back, the enthralling feeling from the tentative plan of having dinner together some time.

The plan that they hadn’t finished and couldn’t do so now because they hadn’t exchanged contact information.

“If you know all of that already, why do you keep asking?”

“Because I want to hear it from you.”

Iwaizumi blinked slowly, the effects of the medication kicking in, the pain in his ankle ebbing away. And he would blame the medication for everything that he said as he closed his eyes and rest his head back, his mouth working on it’s own in spewing out his dreamy thoughts, all of it following his equally dreamy sigh.

“He’s handsome. And he has this gentle smile... And he’s really... I don’t know... Reassuring? And his smile is... Oh, man, his smile... It’s irresistible... And he’s...” Iwaizumi sighed. “Breath-taking.”

An amused chuckle reached his ear from somewhere far, the words _‘It’s nice to see you smile like that’_ the last thing he registered before he fell asleep.

 

 

...

 

 

Unbeknownst to either Iwaizumi or Daichi, the latter was only a couple of blocks away. But it was easy to get lost in the large city and not notice the faces around them, or recognize the passersby in the hurry.

“You saw him again and you didn’t get his number?”

Daichi had been right. Suga would be livid with him. And his shirt was taking the brunt of his best friend’s frustration on him. Currently, they were sitting at their favorite ramen shop in the middle of the distance between their apartments, enjoying the always delicious orders that never changed, never had since their first taste a couple of years back. They were regulars there, and were greeted by their names and a friendly smile by the owner whenever they found the time, and extra money, to go. Not that the place was expensive, hence why they chose it as a perfect place to eat at, not just the distance or the excellent food, but they were students. Although, not anymore really.

“What is wrong with you?”

Daichi chuckled as he was shaken by Suga’s deceptively strong hands reaching for him over the table.

“I got caught in the heat of the game,” Daichi explained lamely.

“So?” Suga let go of his shoulders. “You’re hopeless,” he said with a small smile as he leaned back in his seat in the small booth, kind as he always was. And maybe a little bit amused by Daichi’s inability to get one guy’s number.

And, yeah, maybe it was a little hopeless.

But Daichi was endeared by the fact that they’d been thrust together, to meet by coincidence on so many occasions. He had a feeling that their coincidental meeting at the hospital wouldn’t be the last one. He would have another chance. After all, they did play in the same sort of –league.

“What am I going to do with you?” Suga kept wondering, as if Daichi’s situation was truly hopeless.

Daichi placed his hand on Suga’s arm, patting it to comfort him, to try and reassure him that his case wasn’t as desperate as Suga seemed to think. “It’ll be alright, Suga. I’ll see him again.”

“Just to forget to get his number again?” Suga quipped with a teasing grin.

“I’ll get his number.”

“Really?”

Just for Suga’s tone of disbelief, Daichi boasted. “You know what? I’ll get the number.”

“Okay,” Suga accepted with a shrug. “But pics or it didn’t happen.”

“I’m going to document it and show it to you as proof.”

“Can’t wait.”

Daichi was more determined than before to meet Iwaizumi again. To ask for his phone number. Just so he could wave it in front of Suga’s face. And then take Iwaizumi on that dinner date.

“Now wipe the broth from your chin. Where are you manners, Daichi?” Suga teased. “What would your Prince Charming think if he saw you like that when you ask him for his number?”

Daichi took up a napkin and wiped his chin where Suga had gestured to, and just for his comment, picked up some noodles from his bowl and threw them at Suga with a laugh. “Where are yours?”

Suga yelped as he raised his arms to shield himself from the wet and limp noodles, joining in Daichi’s laughter right after.

“I really hope you’re nicer to this guy than you’re to me or he’ll never fall for you,” Suga chuckled.

Daichi felt a slight twinge somewhere deep within him at the comment, knowing Suga meant it in jest, but his unreciprocated and mostly forgotten feelings took the hit anyway. He lowered his gaze to his order of his favorite ramen at the usual spot they went to, his smile frozen on his face so Suga wouldn’t notice his hurt feelings.

“Don’t worry,” he managed to say, his smile unfreezing to stuff his mouth full of ramen. “I save all my charm for him,” he mumbled, the food garbling his words practically unintelligible.

Suga picked the noodles off of his shirt while he laughed at Daichi’s rude manners of speaking with mouth full of food, as was his intention to steer Suga’s attention somewhere else than his feelings or the flash of his hurt in the twinge of his expression.

“Maybe you should check him out on social media?” Suga suggested as he wiped the stains as best he could from his clothes. “That way you don’t have to wait until the day that the universe has planned for you two to meet again.”

“I checked already,” Daichi admitted. He’d done so back in December, after the second time they’d met, right after he’d gotten home, a little bit buzzed and a little bit more dazed from the memory of the kiss he hadn’t seen coming but had been pleasantly surprised by. “Either he doesn’t have an account, or has set it on private so I can’t find him.”

“Shame. I could’ve lurked him too,” Suga flashed a smile filled with mischief.

The smile wasn’t the shocking part to Daichi. No no. That went to –

“You have a social media account? A profile on Facebook? Or twitter? Instagram? And haven’t told me? Okay, friendship over.”

Suga was laughing. “I don’t have one, but I think I would’ve made one.”

“Just to lurk on someone?” Daichi raised an incredulous eyebrow at his best friend, not even bothering to try and figure out his train of thought on that one. He knew he wouldn’t get it completely right anyway.

“This guy has caught the interest of the mighty Sawamura Daichi,” Suga said, as if that actually meant anything, while Daichi remained sceptic. “There has to be something special about him.”

 _There is,_ Daichi thought to himself with a smile, his eyes dropped to the unfinished bowl of ramen in front of him. He might not know anything about Iwaizumi yet, but what little he did know, he liked. Besides, they liked the same band, so Iwaizumi couldn’t be that bad. And he was the first guy Daichi had ever met that shared the same taste in music, as far as that one band went.

He was intrigued to find out more about the man, more than happy to spend time with him to accomplish that. Maybe they’d have more shared interests... Who knew?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering:  
> No, I know nothing about how hospitals work so I'm writing what comes to me as I write. 
> 
> Yes, I know what I'm doing, I guess, who knows, perhaps, possibly, not at all sure, let's find out :)
> 
> And most definitely, exclusively listen to rock, punk and metal when I write this fic (the only time when I write that I have the chance to listen to the playlist that has all of my favorite songs that belong to rock, punk and every other sub-genre of those) 
> 
> And since I don't know where in the story I could put this in : Iwaizumi's ringtone for Oikawa is "You Fucked Up My Life" by blink 182, just for that one phrase. Makki and Mattsun get a kick out of that little show of pettiness. 
> 
> Alright, that was my little "hello", and with this it's onto the next meet cute <3


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Daichi was standing at a street corner, slightly to the side so he wasn’t in front of pedestrian traffic, waiting for Suga, his headphones bombarding his eardrums with the guitar riffs, the incessant intricate drumming, the flawless bass and barely understandable lyrics of anarchy.

His enjoyment was interrupted when an earphone was pulled out, startling him to the present, to Suga’s mischievous smile as he snuck the stolen earbud into his ear, only to make a face a second or two later.

Daichi chuckled at the sour look on Suga’s face, accepting the earphone back when Suga handed it over.

“I’m convinced you only started to listen to these bands to stop me from snatching your earphones.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?” Daichi questioned with humor in his voice, pausing the music on his phone.

“Hope,” Suga answered earnestly.

Daichi quirked his eyebrow.

“Hope that your taste in music has gotten better. And FYI, I continue be letdown.”

Daichi laughed as he put his earphones in his bag. “We going then?”

“Yeah,” Suga agreed and linked his elbow with Daichi’s, tugging him along. “What is it that we need?”

“Everything.”

“You don’t have anything?” Suga sounded incredulous. “Not even ramen?”

“Nothing,” Daichi confirmed, thinking forlornly about his empty kitchen.

They stopped at the traffic lights, along with the other pedestrians and Suga pulled his arm away from him.Daichi tried not to be letdown that the casual, friendly contact was gone, but it did help with navigating through the oncoming traffic.

“Do you want me to call my mom and tell her that you have nothing in your kitchen?” Suga asked when they’d crossed the street, the store in sight already.

“That’s okay,” Daichi laughed, nervously scratching the spot where Suga’s arm had rest on his. He could still kind of feel the pressure, the weight, the warmth, if he wanted to concentrate on it. 

“I think I should. She’ll be here in a week with her arms full of ramen for you.”

Daichi continued to laugh, walking into the store and getting some annoyed looks from an old lady they were passing by for being too loud.

“Daichi,” Suga hissed with a reproving look shot at him. “Stop scaring the old ladies.”

Daichi sputtered, couldn’t help it _at all._ Even worse was how Suga apologized to the old lady for “his friend’s behavior”.

He tried to calm down, and managed it too as he walked away, further into the store, pretending that he didn’t have any affiliation with Suga. Something that was proven impossible when Suga quickly caught up with him, sporting one of his trademark smiles. 

“Why are we friends?” he asked, genuinely wondering even though he had the answer. Maybe he just wanted to hear it from Suga too. 

“Because,” came Suga’s easy reply, without a surprise. “Come on, ramen first so we don’t forget it.” He steered Daichi towards the correct shelves.

Daichi didn’t have any claims to refute Suga’s statement. It was more than just “because” why they were friends, but it was the easiest way to explain how they just were friends. And he'd known that. 

After all, they knew almost everything about each other. _Almost._ There was that one little secret he was keeping from Suga, one he was determined to keep for the rest of his life. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen to their friendship if Suga were to find out that he was – No, he wasn’t going to think about it.

It was best to move on to something else to talk about.

“So,” he started casually as they searched for the ramen. “Are you really not going to pursue a career in the field that you studied for?”

“I’m really not.”

“What did your mom say to that?”

“She was disappointed, although she didn’t say it. I could still tell. But, she was also supportive when I told her about the upcoming exhibit.”

Suga stopped at the rice, pointing to them and looking at Daichi with a question in the set of his raised eyebrows. Daichi shook his head – he didn’t need rice – while he replied.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Suga,” Daichi stressed, “it’s good. I can’t wait for it either,” he spoke as sincerely as he could, as earnest and honest about it as he could. The small smile gracing Suga's features, wiping away the slight tilt of concern in from his eyebrows was a sight of relief. 

And Suga seemed to bounce quickly from the short moment of doubt.

“Maybe you could bring your Cinderella with you, as a date?” he suggested with a bounce of his eyebrows, until his face fell with regret. “Oh no, you can’t. _You don’t have his number.”_

Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Lay off of that already.” He had known Suga would not be happy that he had once again met Iwaizumi and somehow left without getting his number. And yet he’d told him about it. He was regretting telling Suga about it now, just a little bit, just because he was getting teased about it.

“How can I lay off of that when you definitely need the help?”

“I don’t.”

“Daichi, come on.”

“How about, instead of talking about my dating life, we talk about yours?”

“Why would we talk about mine? There’s nothing happening in mine.” Suga sounded honestly baffled, and just a smidgen too innocent to be taken as the truth.

“Really?” Daichi questioned, full of disbelief and not at all shy about exhibiting it, letting it slip into his tone. “Kuroo told me he saw you with someone.”

“Oh, him?” Suga waved his hand dismissively in a nonchalant way. “He doesn’t matter.”

“That’s nice, Suga,” Daichi said sarcastically.

“He’s just someone to blow off steam with,” Suga spoke, his gaze pointedly straight ahead so he didn’t have to look at Daichi.

Which only made Daichi want to find out more, to ask further, all the while knowing how hard it would be. Suga wasn’t one to tell _anything_ unless he was absolutely sure he wanted someone to know. It wasn’t just about trust, Daichi was sure, but more like a privilege. They were the same in that regard after all, so Daichi got it. 

“Who is he?” He couldn't help but dig further, leaning closer to Suga, conspiratorial, as if imparting secrets, assuring Suga that it would be okay to tell him, safe.

“I told you. No one,” Suga adamantly kept his mouth shut.

“Suga –“

“Oh, hey, look ramen.”

Daichi sighed, but decided to let it go. Suga would tell him more when he was ready to, or willing to. Not that this guy even mattered, according to Suga. “Yay, we found the ramen.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated,” Suga chided him, with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Why are you laughing then?”

Daichi swayed a little on his feet as Suga pushed on his shoulder and he watched Suga throw a disproportionate amount of ramen with chicken flavoring into the basket. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Then put the rest aside, save them for a day when you’re hungry but don’t feel like cooking anything or going to the store,” Suga reasoned, throwing more ramen in, these shrimp flavored.

“You think twelve is enough?” Daichi asked with a hint of sassiness.

“Don’t be silly,” Suga furrowed his brow at him, as if even thinking that was enough was stupid. “Of course not.”

Daichi nodded, confirming a thought to himself, and watched with horrified curiosity Suga throw another six ramen packets in, this time vegetable flavored. “That’s enough already, Suga,” he listlessly tried to stop his best friend from buying all the ramen in the store. “I can live a month with these.”

“Daichi,” Suga said sternly, fixing him with a look, dropping yet another six in the basket, holding the eye contact with him. “How many days are in a month?”

“Thirty, or thirty-one, twenty-eight in February,” Daichi answered, already knowing where Suga was going with this. He still humored him.

“And twenty-four isn’t thirty.”

“You’re not buying thirty of them for me!” Daichi exclaimed in a hushed voice so he didn’t draw unneeded attention to them.

“No, I’m not,” Suga agreed. “You’re buying them yourself.”

Daichi shook his head in small movements, watching his best friend with fondness, some exasperation, and a little bit of admiration. “You know how you wonder who the mom-friend in our group is?” He waited until Suga looked back at him. “It’s you.”

“Just go and get the beer,” Suga replied, his patience obviously thinning. “I’ll meet you at the snacks.”

“Aye aye,” Daichi made a mock salute, and left Suga to pick the last ramen from the shelf.

 

 

...

 

 

The music cut off unexpectedly, and as Iwaizumi took his phone from his pocket, he wished it wasn’t because of a call but because of something else.

Wishful thinking, of course, and it never ended up the way he was wishing.

He was disappointed in the universe during the small moment it took for him to read the caller ID and dropped his headphones around his neck.

“I’m on my way.”

_“Great. Could you bring a case of beer with you?”_

Iwaizumi sighed. “Sure, I’ll pop into the store,” he agreed without any heart in it. “I’ll be right over so make sure your pants are pulled up _and_ fastened.”

He could hear Hanamaki’s distant laughter on the other end of the call, probably listening on his and Matsukawa’s conversation.

_“Also, if you could bring some chips, mochi, coffee –“_

“I’m not going to remember all that,” Iwaizumi interrupted, knowing from experience that the list would be too long. “Just send me a text of what I need to bring.”

_“Thanks!”_

The call ended quickly after Matsukawa’s hurried reply, and Iwaizumi heaved a heavy and slightly irritated sigh. The store was just around the corner, he’d just stepped out to the street from his building so it wasn’t a detour in the least. But he still felt a little inconvenienced. His music resumed on his phone, which he’d dropped back into his jeans’ pocket, he brought his headphones up again and continued to deafen himself with the rock that was too good not to play loudly.

The music helped a little in bringing his mood back where it had been – dull – but he still made a silent vow to himself that he’d smack both Hanamaki and Matsukawa if the two had skipped going to the store to get essentials for their dinner and hang out in favor of having sex the whole day.

The store didn’t seem busy and he hoped to be in and out as fast as possible. The grocery list Matsukawa sent him wasn’t actually long, and yet too long in his opinion. He was quite sure that he didn’t need to buy the toothpaste for them, and among that, decided to skip what he thought were non-essential for their hang out.

If Hanamaki and Matsukawa needed to buy something, they could do it on their own.

He saved the beer for last and was reaching out for the cans, at the same time as someone else’s hand grabbed the same can. He was already ready to chew the guy’s head off, or woman’s he didn’t discriminate, and tell them to get another can, this was his first, but paused when he recognized the face.

“Oh.”

 

...

 

The apology was already on Daichi’s tongue, but held back when he recognized the man.

“This feels like a déjà vu, huh?” Iwaizumi joked, drawing his hand back to pull his headphones down and around his neck. “You can take it this time.”

Daichi smiled, silently thanking Iwaizumi for it, a reversal from their first meeting when he’d offered the glass they’d both had their eyes set on to Iwaizumi.

“I see your ankle is better,” Daichi commented as his eyes slid down to the injured limb and back up to Iwaizumi’s eyes again. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi looked down at his own feet and quickly back up. “It was just a small twist.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

Daichi offered a smile to Iwaizumi, wracking his brain for something to say, hoping for Iwaizumi to maybe come up with something. He brought his hand behind his neck and head, looking slightly away with the faintest blush he could feel on his cheeks, desperately trying to come up with _anything_. And at the same time, trying not to look like he was trying too hard, or embarrassed that he couldn’t think of something.

But neither of them said anything, the silence between them growing awkward, and then some.

Daichi cleared his throat, his mind racing for _anything_ at this point. Didn’t matter what he’d say as long as it was something. He looked around him for inspiration. Maybe there was something on the shelves that would be a good subject. Mushrooms. Great. That’d be a wonderful thing to talk about.

Yeah... Maybe not...

“You know,” Iwaizumi started, drawing Daichi’s gaze back onto him. “Kyoutani is convinced that your team cheated somehow and that was why we lost to you.”

Daichi chuckled, just a light burst of air, thinking back to the game from a couple of weeks ago. It had been so easy to talk with Iwaizumi then, why couldn’t it be the same way now?

“We could always have a rematch and prove that the win wasn’t a fluke.”

“I was already convinced that you were just that good. Especially you with your receives.”

Daichi blinked, absorbing the words. Was...? Was Iwaizumi flirting with him? Things got a lot more interesting and a lot less awkward fast when the realization dawned on him.

“You were excellent too. Your spikes were hard to save from hitting the ground.”

“You did it well, though.”

“Thanks,” Daichi chuckled, pleased by the praise. “Um,” he cleared his throat a little, mentally cursed himself for the indecisive stammer, and started again. “Um, do you live close by? I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I moved about a month ago.”

“Ah.”

“You live close?”

“Across the street.”

“Oh. That is close.”

“Yeah.”

Aaaand...

It got awkward again and Daichi was borderline desperate to come up with a subject to talk about with Iwaizumi. He didn’t want him to walk away yet. Not yet. Not. Yet. But as they lapsed into silence again, Daichi could feel his own skin crawl with the desire to escape.

Things were made worse for him when he caught Suga’s eye as he passed by him and Iwaizumi. He was ready to thank the lucky stars that Suga didn’t stop to hover next to them but kept walking, but took his thanks back when Suga turned to walk backwards just past Iwaizumi, his eyes moving as he looked Iwaizumi up and down from behind, and moved his gaze to Daichi with an incredibly unsubtle thumbs up.

Daichi’s eyes widened a little as he saw Suga’s gesture behind Iwaizumi as he was walking away, and actually sent a silent thank you to those famously lucky stars after all that Iwaizumi couldn’t see through the back of his head.

“I should go,” Iwaizumi said after a short moment, and Daichi could feel his expression crumble from the slightly forced smile to disappointment. “My friends are waiting for me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Daichi was ready accommodate at once. If Iwaizumi had to go, he had to go. “I’ve already taken up a lot of your time.”

“I didn’t mind,” Iwaizumi said with the smallest of smiles, his tone edging on gentle.

Daichi smiled back at him, genuinely relieved and happy to hear that. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too,” Iwaizumi echoed the sentiment with a nod, a flash of widening in his smile, and took up a case of beer from the shelf before he walked away.

Daichi took a deep inhale and let it out slowly. He couldn’t believe how awkward he’d been, and was a little bit glad that the situation was over now. But he couldn’t figure out why he’d been so awkward when at the park he would’ve called himself smooth, suave even. The flirting had been easy then.

And, ah, did Iwaizumi look good in casual clothes – tight jeans and a heavy looking hoodie with the name of his favorite band printed at the front of it that still managed to leave little to the imagination of what could be under it the tone of muscles.

 _Wow,_ Daichi tried to clear his head. This was not the time to fantasize about Iwaizumi naked. Not at all. And yet...

“Was that him?”

Daichi was startled, and he physically jerked, for a second time that day, and once again by Suga.  

“Your Cinderella?” Suga asked when Daichi turned around completely to look at his friend, acting like the devil on his shoulder.

“You have to stop calling him that.”

“What’s his name then? You haven’t told.”

“I haven’t?” Daichi was surprised by that. He was sure he’d said it. “Iwaizumi Hajime.” He could see that Iwaizumi Hajime exit the store, his head visible over the shelves. He was hoping Iwaizumi would look back.

 _Look back, look back, look back,_ he silently chanted, willing the universe to hear him and grant him this one wish when he never asked for anything. He’d just thanked the stars, hadn’t he? Oh, right, no. He took that back. But still, _please look back._

“And did you ask Iwaizumi-san for his number this time?”

Daichi didn’t answer, disappointment amounting inside him when Iwaizumi didn’t look back.

His silence, however, apparently was an answer to Suga.

“I knew it.” There was no glee of having been right or gloating in Suga’s voice. It was just a statement, a truth.

Daichi shook his head, looking down to gather his wits about him, and looked up. “We were in a store. How do you ask someone’s number in a store?” He grabbed another case of beer from the shelf and stepped around Suga.

Suga followed him a couple of steps, and then stepped in front of him, stopping in his way. “Hi,” he tilted his head a little, his smile bright and warm. And, oh, how that would've done a number on Daichi a year or so ago. Now, thankfully, not so much. “We’ve met a couple of times now, and this is probably long overdue, but could I have your phone number? That way we can schedule our next meeting instead of leaving it to the chance.”

Daichi looked at Suga for a long time after he was done speaking.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is,” Suga insisted softly. “You just have to do it. And trust me, you’re going to be very happy once you do.”

Daichi gave Suga a dubious look, but at the same time, he couldn't help but hope that Suga was right. 

“He couldn’t take his eyes off of you,” Suga said softly, meaningfully.

Daichi scratched the back of his head, every nerve inside him wanting to believe Suga. And, he did, however it was with a sigh. Maybe it could be that easy. When he ran into Iwaizumi the next time, he hoped that it could be.

“Let’s just get the rest of what we need and get going." 

 

 

...

 

 

“Finally!” Hanamaki said when he opened the door. “We’ve been waiting forever, and starving.” He unloaded the bag from him, and took off with it at once, leaving him alone for a second to deal with his shoes.

“Yo,” Matsukawa came to greet him at the door as well, drying his hands on a kitchen towel.

Iwaizumi nodded in response, toeing his shoes off.

“What’s with the smile?”

Iwaizumi looked up, confused, and wrestled his shoe off when it was uncooperative to do so with just his toes. “What smile?”

Matsukawa gestured with his head towards him, as his hands were too busy _still_ drying with the towel. “That smile. Why are you smiling?”

Iwaizumi made great effort to scowl. “I’m not smiling.”

“Right,” Matsukawa dragged the word, his lazy gaze unnaturally observant as if flitted on Iwaizumi’s features. “Come on,” he gestured with his free hand for Iwaizumi to follow him. “Let’s eat.”

Iwaizumi was glad that Matsukawa had seemed to let the matter go and hadn’t pried further into the smile, or why it was present on his face. Really relieved, since it bounced right back once Matsukawa turned his back to him, the force of the smile far greater than the effort he was willing to put into the scowl. He just wasn't ready to discuss Daichi and all the things he could potentially be with anyone yet. 

Besides, it felt nice. The smile.

His mood hadn’t been the greatest when he’d entered the store, but it had skyrocketed when he’d ran into Daichi.

It’d been a nice reversal of their roles from the park, with Daichi apparently a little awkward about the meeting, like he’d been at the park the last time. But it was endearing, the faint blush that had steadily climbed on Daichi’s cheeks.

It was too bad that he’d had plans. He would’ve loved to stay in the store, in middle of the beer and the soft drinks, to watch Daichi being cute like that, to flirt more with him.

It was surprisingly easy to flirt with him. And he really couldn’t stop smiling now that he thought back to it. If only Daichi had looked back to him before he left the store.

“You’re still smiling,” Matsukawa said, breaking his reverie.

“Shut up.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy White Day everyone <3

 

 

A month passed by quickly, the days mostly distinguishable to Daichi by the thought at the end of the day _I didn’t accidentally bump into Iwaizumi today._

It was already May, and Daichi was starting to feel a little dispirited about the chance of meeting Iwaizumi again. Had he missed his chance? He should’ve gotten the number earlier, shouldn’t he?

But he soothed that nervous part of him with quiet reassurances that it had taken them months to meet again after the first time. Maybe he could patiently wait for a little longer to meet again. He wasn’t exactly willing to give up.

There was just something about Iwaizumi that just felt _right_ to him. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but he was aware that there was something there that he hadn’t had when meeting anyone else – apart from Suga but that was neither here or there anymore – and he wanted to explore that feeling further.

He’d wait for a year for the chance for that to happen.

However, right now, he was feeling really fantastic, really excited to go to a concert of his favorite band.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said to Suga as they stepped out of the train and continued to the stairs to the street level.

The days waiting to meet Iwaizumi again had been spent waiting almost just as eagerly for the concert of his favorite band. There was a thought at the back of his mind, that since he knew Iwaizumi liked this band too, he might be there. But the venue was enormous and the tickets had sold out quickly. The chances of them being there at the same time, or even seeing each other there were slim to none. Even if Iwaizumi had gotten tickets, who was to say that they’d even have seats anywhere close to each other.

“You’re very welcome, Daichi,” Suga replied with a kind smile. “But you don’t need to thank me. I was happy to come.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t exactly your kind of scene, or music.” Daichi took a rather wary look around, noting the sea of black they were swallowed by once they got closer to the arena.

“I’m about to see you get your rock on, and I’m not missing it for the world.”

Daichi chuckled at Suga’s excitement, letting it relax him a little. He was excited as well, barely containing it to appear nonchalant enough not to get too much attention. 

“Just give a warning if I’m about to do something that is considered a big no-no. I don’t want to end up some hardcore metal fan’s bitch.”

Daichi burst into laughter. “I doubt that’ll happen. You’re fine.”

“Why does everyone keep looking at me then?”

Daichi suppressed his low giggles to take a look around and noticed the heads of people passing by them, or the ones they were passing by, turn to look at Suga.

“Am I not dressed appropriately for something like this? I’m wearing all black. I shouldn’t stand out.”

“But you do,” Daichi acknowledged, a little unnerved by the attention Suga was getting.  It must’ve been the hair, making him stand out in the sea of black and black. And more black to go with the earlier black. “You look great.”

“So I got the rock aesthetic right? Good.”

Daichi kept chuckling at Suga, at how easily he got over the slight bout of nerves about the looks he was getting. It was as if a flip had been switched and Suga was ignoring the looks, impervious to them. Daichi envied him a little. Although he was very much in his element where they were, and pretty much anywhere he was, it was amazing to him, inspiring to witness Suga adapt.

“Hey, let’s walk around a bit,” Suga said almost as soon as they entered through the doors, his voice buried under the noise of everyone else inside.

“But our seats are right through here.” Daichi was baffled by the suggestion.

“I know, but there’s still time before the opening act goes on. I want to explore.”

“Fine,” Daichi agreed with the briefest sigh. He followed Suga through the throngs of people milling about. They were walking in straight line, and it took a moment too long for Daichi to realize that they were actually walking towards certain something that must’ve caught Suga’s eye, and another moment too long to realize what it was.

Iwaizumi Hajime.

It would seem that the universe was on his side that night, and that they both were at the same concert.

“Suga, no,” Daichi whispered loudly, trying in vain to stop Suga from approaching Iwaizumi. But either Suga honestly didn’t hear him, or decided to ignore him. Daichi would bet on the latter.

He might’ve been looking forward to seeing Iwaizumi again, but not with Suga right there.

They were getting closer and closer to the lone man standing by one of the thick columns spread around the large venue and with every step Daichi was getting more and more nervous. His excitement about the concert was forgotten, replaced by the memory of the awkwardness that had been their last meeting.

However, there was a determination swirling deep inside him.

This time, he was going to get the number.

If only he could remember how to talk, his tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth as they were only a few steps away, and completely numb when Iwaizumi’s eyes passed by him, and came back to a double take.

A small smile brightened Iwaizumi’s face, like magic, and Daichi rediscovered the ability to talk.

“Oh, hey,” Iwaizumi greeted, clearly surprised to see him, but just as obviously happy pleased about it. “Should’ve known you’re a fan too.” He gestured to Daichi’s shirt.

“Yeah, same,” Daichi chuckled, smiling back.

They lapsed into silence, neither knowing what to say, Iwaizumi casting glances to the side... Daichi followed his line of sight to where Suga was subtly grinning, watching their awkwardness.

”This is Suga.”

”I’m just a friend,” Suga told Iwaizumi. “In case you were worried. Daichi is single.”

“Suga!” Daichi whisper shouted, horrified and more than just a little bit embarrassed.

It wasn’t because Suga was a bad friend that Daichi kind of wished that he wasn’t standing right there when Iwaizumi was there as well. It was because for some reason, he was self-conscious about flirting with anyone in front of Suga. Not that he worried about being teased, but, still.

But Iwaizumi was chuckling, and actually seemed like he appreciated Suga’s clarification, his gaze sweeping at Daichi up and down for the second time.

“I asked him to come to the concert with me,” Daichi said after he cleared his throat, subtly flattered by the once over once again.

“He’s been trying to convert me into rock music,” Suga added.

Iwaizumi nodded, looking somewhat sympathetic. “It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Definitely not a cup of tea,” Suga agreed. “Maybe a thimble of cyanide, but not tea.”

Iwaizumi flashed a small smile at Suga’s joke.

Daichi really, _really,_ needed Suga to be gone, or for the two of them to walk away.

“But since you’re here,” Suga kept talking, to Daichi’s creeping mortification, “maybe you could go with Daichi, so I don’t have to?” he suggested, his smile innocent to everyone who didn’t know him like Daichi did, but he did know his best friend and caught the obvious mischief in his expression.

“Um,” Iwaizumi faltered a little, looking uncertainly from Suga to Daichi and back. “I guess... If it’s okay with you.” He looked to Daichi with the smallest, softest, hopeful curl of his lips.

And Daichi was sold. But, just to make sure. “Were you waiting for someone?”

“No,” Iwaizumi answered in earnest. “I don’t have any friends that like the music.”

Daichi nodded along, smiling back at Iwaizumi, sharing a moment of eye contact, as if they were lost in it. He took a deep breath, and felt content, relieved, a subtle eagerness running in his veins.

He wasn’t sure when Suga left, but when he looked where he remembered his best friend to have been, he was gone. Had he said goodbye, and somehow Daichi had missed it?

Didn’t matter now, though.

Iwaizumi was holding what looked like Suga’s ticket.

Daichi really needed to thank his best friend for this. Really.

 

 

...

 

 

It had been by far the best concert Daichi had ever been to. After Suga had left them, it had been a little awkward when they tried to come up with something to talk about that wasn’t the weather, but the tension had dissolved little by little as they listened to the opening act, and then altogether wiped away when the main entertainment had come to the stage.

Daichi had been unbelievably grateful that Suga had graciously stepped aside.

They’d bonded through the love for the same music. They’d sung along to what they could, and jumped and hollered and fist-bumped the air for the rest. He had never wanted the night to end.

The Best Concert Ever

It had been the highlight of his week, probably the whole month, and as he sat down on Suga’s couch, he was certain that very little would be able to top the concert. At least, until he’d see Iwaizumi again.

“How was the concert?”

“It was good,” Daichi answered with a smile, his head still a little bit on yesterday, high in the clouds and probably never coming back down to rest on his shoulders. The music had been mind-blowingly good, and loud, and he was still just a little bit deaf. The company had been ever better, made the experience even more spectacular.

“Mm-hm,” Suga hummed knowingly.

It drew Daichi’s attention, and he looked over the back of the couch. “What?”

“Did you walk him home?”

“No, we split at the station.”

Suga smiled back at him and turned away, his hand reaching for the handle on the fridge.

Daichi watched him for a moment, waiting for him to dig out the beers they’d stashed there some time ago, but couldn’t wait too long before he couldn’t keep it inside him anymore.

“I got his number.”

This was why he’d come over to Suga’s. To brag. Not about the possible date he and Iwaizumi had set on vague terms of ‘soon’, but that he’d finally scored Iwaizumi’s digits.

Suga came in view from behind the fridge door, letting it close on it’s own as he just stared back at Daichi, clearly not believing him. “At this point, I’m going to need some actual proof,” he said as he brushed his hand on his jeans and came around the island to stand by Daichi.

“I knew you would,” Daichi replied and pulled his phone out. “So I documented it.”

Suga raised his eyebrow in question while Daichi opened the gallery on his phone, and showed Suga the pictures he took of the highly anticipated event – recreating the incident right after it had happened to save for occasions like this. It was nice of Iwaizumi to agree to it.

What he hadn’t gotten on the film roll, though, was the kiss. It had been small, fleeting, in the moment –kind of thing. Daichi’s cheek still tingled a little, as if it had burnt the feel of Iwaizumi’s lips onto his skin, there to remind him and assure him that it really had happened when he felt like he needed it. And also, just for the fun of it to think back on.

It was likely that Iwaizumi would actually remember this one happening. Since, he hadn’t been drunk like he’d been when they’d met for the very first time.

Daichi couldn’t wait to see Iwaizumi again. Maybe just a little bit to check if he remembered kissing his cheek in such an endearing and cute way in the secluded shadows of the station, so soft and shy, but lovely and worthy to blush for, right before they’d separated to different directions to head to their respective homes. But also, you know, he wanted to see Iwaizumi again because it was Iwaizumi.

Suga watched the photos slide one after the other, documenting the historical number exchange, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

When Daichi reached the last photo, he looked up to Suga for his verdict.

“You two are nerds,” Suga stated softly, happy that they seemed to clash together so well. “But I’m glad you found each other.”

“What do you mean we’re nerds?” Daichi asked, indignant as he watched Suga walk back to the kitchen to get those damn beers.

“It took you two at least five different times of meeting on accident and a lot of awkward flirting to exchange numbers, and you took photos of it after the fact just to show me, and he went along with it. It’s cute,” Suga spoke as he went to the fridge, and managed to return to the living room.

Daichi was mollified by Suga’s sweet words. “Our flirting wasn’t awkward,” he still had to, felt the absolute need to, correct.

“I was there on two occasions witnessing the flirting,” Suga pointed out, offering the beer for Daichi. “It was awkward.”

Daichi would’ve grumbled if he wasn’t so happy, and if Suga wasn’t just a little bit right.

“I’m glad you had fun at the concert with him.”

“Oh, it was the best,” Daichi confirmed, enthused as he watched through the photos one more time. He felt the dip in the couch cushions as Suga sat next to him.

“Have you set another date yet?”

“Not yet. And I don’t think that the concert counts as a date. It was impromptu, it just happened. Don’t dates need planning?” Daichi looked up from the photos, from Iwaizumi’s handsome and intriguing face, to Suga.

“Not necessarily. But I get where you’re coming from.”

Daichi was nodding along, grateful that he and Suga were on the same wave length on just about anything. It made the conversation easy, all their interactions seamless as they already knew what to expect the other to say or do, or at least be in the ballpark. There were many advances in having known each other for years.

There were disadvantages too, mainly the simple teasing that came so easily to both of them.

“Have you set a first date yet then?” Suga amended his question, a quirk in his lips, like there was a tease hidden in the curl, ready to be spoken out loud.

Daichi was quick to stamp that tease away.

“No, not yet,” he still replied honestly, albeit a little curtly to cut off Suga’s supply for teasing material. Suga seemed to get his point, his smile softening all over again.

“Have you even texted him yet?”

“No, but he’s at work. What would be the point?”

Suga paused as he was about to take a drink, tipped his head back just a fraction, gazing up to the ceiling with a sigh, as if summoning strength. Strength for what? Daichi didn’t know, although he had his guesses, and he didn’t really want any of them to be right.

“Imagine leaving work after a long and arduous day, saving lives, dealing with impatient patients, laughing at a stupid joke that a fellow nurse told you that you don’t even find funny but you still laugh so you don’t hurt their feelings.”

Daichi chuckled at the image Suga was painting, every word echoing inside him, every word something he’d said to Suga at least once before.

“You check your phone, to see if anyone had messaged you, or called you, or if there is an email,” Suga continued despite Daichi’s chuckling. “And, oh, there is a message from Iwaizumi. Isn’t that lovely? So what if he can’t reply right now. Just think how happy he’d be to find out that you’ve thought of him today.”

A soft smile possessed Daichi’s lips. “Okay, I get it,” he admitted. It would be really nice to find out that Iwaizumi had thought of him, had thought to message him. He dug his phone from his pocket again, and went to the messages, only to pause.

What should he send?

He looked up to Suga uncertainly, wondering if he could ask, if it would be lame to admit that he didn’t quite know what to type.

Suga turned to him after a short moment, maybe sensing that Daichi was looking at him, or just knowing that he would have questions, would need help, or maybe just because he found the silence disconcerting.

“Just send ‘hey’,” Suga said in a sweet tone, his smile warm.

Well, Daichi was happy that at least Suga didn’t find him pathetic.

“And then ‘Can I blow you?’.”

“Suga!” Daichi exclaimed, scandalized and aghast, and not at all surprised that Suga would suggest something like that. The tease had been there, and it had been let loose. He picked up the lonely throw pillow and threw it in Suga’s direction to stop his chuckling, missing the mark completely.

An astounding feat when Suga was practically right next to him.

He wasn’t even drunk. He couldn’t believe he’d still missed. Although, he’d been sipping that beer, so maybe it was already affecting his accuracy.

“Don’t try and deny that you don’t want to,” Suga was laughing at his poor marksmanship, and bent down to pick up the throw pillow from the floor.

Daichi didn’t think Suga’s statement needed a reply, or was worthy of one, but he did send a disapproving glare at his best friend, who looked a little too pleased with himself.

Suga hadn’t been completely wrong though. However, Daichi figured that he and Iwaizumi were nowhere near the appropriate time to send such messages. They’d only just exchanged numbers. They didn’t even know anything about each other yet. Maybe in time, when their relationship had progressed to actually be called ‘a relationship’, or at the very least ‘dating’, maybe then they could... Sext...? That was the word right?

Daichi felt so old all of sudden.

But he did end up typing up the small greeting, a ‘hey’ and a smiling emoji, and sending it, a flurry of excited nerves suddenly fizzling under his skin and making his leg bounce a little, anxious for Iwaizumi’s probable reply.

“And you think that I don’t know how to flirt,” Suga was shaking his head, talking to himself, obviously exasperated by Daichi’s apparent lack of skills of communication.

“You don’t know how to flirt,” Daichi verified, and was rewarded with a throw pillow thrown in his face for it.

 

 

...

 

 

_Hey :)_

 

Iwaizumi smiled at the message, at the old fashioned emoji. He knew that Daichi had a smart phone, had input his number there, actually held the device in his hand. So, Daichi would have the many emojis at his fingertips to use.

And yet he’d typed ‘:’ and ‘)’.

Iwaizumi found that adorable, and replied with a wider smile on his face when he left the fire station.

“Who are you texting?”

Iwaizumi glanced up from his phone to address his co-worker. “My mom.”

“Please tell me you’re lying,” his colleague said with concern. “It’d be really creepy if you smile like that when you’re texting with your mother.”

Iwaizumi tried to school his expression to be less enthusiastic, less enamored. “Okay, fine,” he acquiesced as he finished his reply to Daichi. “It’s someone I met at the concert yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah. How was it?”

“The best ever.” Iwaizumi wasn’t lying, or hiding his real emotions about it. It really had been the best concert experience he’d ever had.

The fellow firefighter clapped him on his shoulder as he passed by towards his car. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Iwaizumi flashed a rare smirk. “I did,” he admitted. _A lot,_ he added silently to himself.

He was even gladder that he wasn’t further interrogated about the concert, or who he’d met. He wasn’t out at the station, for personal reasons, even though he was aware that most, if not everyone, he worked with weren’t bigots.

But still, it was safer. It kept the camaraderie on the up and up. He wouldn’t be left behind in a burning building ‘on accident’. The buddy system wouldn’t fail. No one was ever left behind. No matter what their sexuality was. Or if they had a personality trait that annoyed the hell out of everyone else. Even that firefighter that was pretty unanimously only tolerated by everyone was part of their team, and looked after so he wasn’t injured. Or, more injured than what the usual hazards of the job were. Iwaizumi already had too many little burn scars to count with two hands. He didn’t hate the scars. Every single one was from a rescue, every single one had a story of heroics behind them.

They were kind of cool.

Not that he’d ever say so out loud, or admit in any way, verbal or not. In fact, he’d be the most vehemently against it if anyone would tell him they were cool.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Iwaizumi waved in response to his colleague and put his phone away, only to pull it out immediately when he felt the vibration against his thigh.

A smile bloomed instantly on his face, the small kind that was still subtle on the outside but like the warmest ember inside him, heating him up.

Daichi was so cute.

Iwaizumi couldn’t wait until he’d see Daichi again.

What he didn’t wait for, and would gladly put off, was running into Oikawa.

“What are you doing here?” he asked immediately, annoyed, suspicious, a little bit hostile too when they almost bumped into each other on the street.

“I’m on my way home,” Oikawa replied defensively, clearly offended by Iwaizumi’s tone of voice.

But Iwaizumi wasn’t one to apologize to Oikawa. Especially to Oikawa. Even though they somehow fell into step next to each other.

“School isn’t this way,” Iwaizumi pointed out. In fact, Oikawa’s school was a good long distance in the other way.

“I’m not coming from school.”

_Oh_

Iwaizumi understood what that meant, and the way Oikawa was smirking in that obnoxious and smug way did not leave anything to guess for.

“Why are you following me?” Oikawa asked then.

And seriously? Iwaizumi frowned. “I’m not. I live this way.”

“Since when?”

“Since I moved.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

“That’s nice, thank you,” Oikawa replied sarcastically, smiling charmingly. Iwaizumi wanted to smack that smile off of him. But, since he didn’t fancy starting a brawl, or a slap fight, in middle of a street, he focused his eyes away, landing on the ground, only to notice the limp in Oikawa’s steps.

Great. Now he’d have to show concern for that, shouldn’t he?

He did care of Oikawa’s well-being, though. Don’t get him wrong. He doubted he’d ever actually stop caring. But it was dangerous to let Oikawa know that.

He was at an impasse.

 

 

...

 

 

“You did not just type in that emoji,” Suga said, aghast.

“So what if I did?” Daichi asked, confused and ready to defend his reasoning behind it. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with the emoji. It was simple, but conveyed what he wanted it to.

“There are hundreds of actual emojis at your disposal, and yet you decided to type it like someone with a flip phone in 2007 might’ve.”

“None of the emojis look right. The one that’s smiling, it looks like it isn’t an earnest smile. And the one that’s blushing, well, I’m not blushing.”

“Yes, you are.”

Suga plucked the phone out of Daichi’s hand before he had the chance to discredit any of the other emojis, and he was quick to snatch it back.

“Stop backseat texting.”

“I will once you learn how to flirt in text.”

“And you’re going to teach me?” Daichi asked, rightfully incredulous. He had his eyebrow raised to maximize his disbelief.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Suga relented and slumped a little in his seat, like he was bored. “I’m not as bad as you think, though,” he added in a lighter voice.

“Mm-hm,” Daichi hummed, not really paying attention, too busy as he was to come up with something to text. He wasn’t coming up with anything that he didn’t backspace right away. Nothing was good enough, or witty enough, or sweet enough.

“I’ve had boyfriends before.”

“Not because you flirted with them, but because they were genuinely interested in you, despite the lack of skill in flirting.”

“It’s a skill now?”

“Yes.”

“What level do your social skills have to be at to unlock the ability to learn it, and how many hours do you have to play to master it?”

“What?” Daichi was thoroughly lost on what Suga was talking about.

Suga sighed, “Just give it here,” and plucked the tiny device from Daichi’s large hand again. “I’ll do this for you.”

“No, Suga,” Daichi tried to get his phone back, but Suga turned his back to him to shield the phone from theft, dangling half off of the couch, over the armrest. “Suga,” Daichi tried to reach around him, not even daring to think what horrendous, lame or embarrassing line Suga might text to Iwaizumi.

He was already crafting an apology text in his mind to send to Iwaizumi once he got his phone back.

“Suga,” he tried in a firmer, warning tone, tugging on the back of Suga’s shirt to try and get him away from the armrest before he fell on the floor.

“Here,” Suga turned back almost at the same time, and if thousands of second weren’t a measurement of time, their words would’ve been simultaneous.

Daichi took his phone back, and okay, it was pretty good what Suga came up with – he wouldn’t need the apology text. Maybe Suga could be okay with this flirting thing, better than Daichi had thought he’d be. He was ready to tell Suga as much, until he saw his best friend reach for his beer bottle and take a sip.

“We’re sharing germs with each other now too then,” Daichi commented, watching Suga put the bottle back on the coffee table.

“Aren’t we already sharing about half of our germs with each other?” Suga asked back with a smile, his expression filled with mirth, enough on the sweet side for Daichi to tell that he was drunk.

“That’s disgusting, Suga.”

“So is kissing with tongue, and _yet it feels so good.”_

Daichi snorted at Suga’s exaggerating tone of how good it felt. And thinking about kissing Suga, with tongue, and sharing germs, wasn’t probably the thing to think about right now when he was waiting for Iwaizumi to reply.

What he was glad to think about, with a hint of wishful thinking and some, cough, arousal too, was kissing Iwaizumi, with tongue.

 

 

...

 

 

“Or, maybe you were worried that I wouldn’t care, and you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to be disappointed if you were right,” Oikawa said.

Iwaizumi’s frown intensified, his steps quickened to get away from Oikawa sooner. But the bastard still matched his pace.

“Fuck you, Oikawa.”

The man made caring about him too hard. Too fucking impossible.

“Three hundred and eighty-four.”

Iwaizumi was confused what the number meant, and he really didn’t want to ask. But the will to know was greater. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“What?” He barked the question, his tone growly.

“Nothing,” Oikawa feigned innocence.

Iwaizumi considered kicking Oikawa, and whether or not that would make his limp even worse, and whether he’d be disappointed if it didn’t, or feeling guilty if it did.

“What, Oikawa.”

Oikawa looked at him, side-eyeing him to be precise, his lips pursed as if in thought. “Just counting the days since the last time you called me by my first name. It has been three-hundred-and-eighty-four days since the last time you let it slip.”

“You know what?” Iwaizumi was done now with whatever this weird walk was. “Fuck you.” There was a bitter satisfaction in cursing at Oikawa, and he felt just a little bit better for it as he put his headphones on, to ignore Oikawa, to block out his voice.

Not that that would’ve mattered three steps later.

“See you soon,” Iwaizumi assumed Oikawa said from how his lips formed around the inaudible syllables, his hand waving in peppy manner, a small twiddle of his fingers, as he turned at the street corner.

Iwaizumi didn’t waste time watching after him but kept walking forward. Towards home. He had his music blasting, but not too loud so he didn’t bother others with the noise that would leak out of the headphones. However, it didn’t have the desired effect of drowning his thoughts, or lifting his mood.

Even switching to trash metal didn’t help. The nonsensical clash of instruments, the noise – because let’s face it, that’s what it was – or the random shouts of fuck you in middle of the low groaning of the lyrics wasn’t able to fix the state his mood was in.

It wasn’t much of a thought that made him open the messaging app again. It was more of a feeling, a certain desire to spent time with someone that did have the effect on him to make him feel better just by standing at an arm’s reach. Just by smiling so warmly.

After all, Daichi had messaged him, and he’d replied, and they’d fallen into an easy going back and forth, until Oikawa had to ruin it for him.

The situation needed fixing right this second.

Hopefully Daichi wasn’t busy.

 

 

...

 

 

“He wants to meet me,” Daichi sat up in panic, reading and re-reading the message. “What do I do? What do I do?” he chanted to himself, unable to figure out _what to do._

“You say ‘yes’, obviously,” Suga helped him.

Daichi didn’t appreciate the eye roll, but he did want to follow the advice. It’s just that –

“But it’s so soon. I didn’t think we’d meet again so soon. And I’m not dressed for that. I mean, I did shower in the morning,” he lifted his arm to take a sniff, to make sure he wasn’t smelling of sweat, “but I should probably shower, just to be sure, and –“

“Calm down,” Suga said, his voice wobbly with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “Does he want to meet right this second, or in an hour or two?”

“I –“ Daichi cut himself off, considered what Suga actually said, and started again, more calmly. “I should find out.”

Suga nodded, agreeing that that was a good idea. “I’m so much better at flirting than you are.”

“No, you’re not,” Daichi replied, a knee-jerk reaction to refute something that just was untrue while he typed.

A knock at the door had Suga rising from the couch, while Daichi stared at his phone, waiting for a reply from Iwaizumi.

“Hey, Asahi.”

“Hey, Suga.”

Daichi looked up to the door at the sound of a familiar name and a voice and waved at their friend.

“I’m better at flirting than Daichi, right?” Suga asked from Asahi.

Daichi snorted. Ridiculous. And of course Suga would ask it in that voice that bordered on cooing, like it did whenever he got drunk.

Asahi looked from Suga to Daichi, and back to Suga again. “Can I not answer?” he asked, uncertain, maybe a little cowardly.

It made Daichi laugh. “Told you,” he chuckled, speaking to Suga.

“My mom sent cookies to you.” Asahi lifted the box in his hand a little higher for them to see, directing their attention somewhere else, defusing the situation before Suga had the chance for rebuttal.

“Ah, thank you,” Suga sighed, accepting the box. “I love your mom. Do you think she’d adopt me?”

“You have a mother, Suga,” Daichi felt the need to point out. He was becoming frustrated, and a little worried that Iwaizumi still hadn’t replied. He didn’t have the patience in mind to be considerate.

“So? I can’t have two?” Suga asked.

And he did have a point with that, sort of.

But Daichi was too busy with the sudden ding of his phone, informing him about a new message, the conversation of Suga asking Asahi how his family was and how pleasant the traveling there had been somewhere in the background, practically just white noise to him.

“He wants to meet in an hour, at the café near the station.” Daichi sprung up. He needed to get home, and shower, and change clothes. There was no way he’d wear his Metallica shirt to meet with Iwaizumi. Not again. He needed Iwaizumi to know that he had more than just the one t-shirt.

“Where are you going?” Asahi asked from the kitchen, alarmed and confused at the same time, a mix of two emotions Daichi had only ever witnessed from him.

“He has a date,” Suga answered for him. “Do you want help?” he offered then, following Daichi to the door.

“I think I can shower on my own, thank you very much.”

“And do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“Of course,” Daichi flapped his hand, confident. He didn’t want Suga’s subtle tone of incredulity to slow him down. He was already about to open the door, ready to step out, when he actually thought about it, and paused. He slowly turned to Suga, his expression begging for help.

He was just grateful that Suga didn’t call him out on that, but smiled at him encouragingly, patiently.

“Wear something black.”

“Black?” Most of his wardrobe was black. ‘Black’ was not helpful, Suga!

He conveyed the frustration in his expression, in the tilt and furrow of his eyebrows, in the pinch of it all, aiming it at Suga who was leaning his shoulder to the wall.

“Something that doesn’t have a band logo on it.”

Daichi thought about it, mentally going through every shirt he owned. And that did help, thank you Suga.

“Okay, I got it,” Daichi nodded, confident once again as he threw a quick ‘goodbye’ to Suga and Asahi, and extremely excited as he ran down the stairs, taking every other step in his haste.

It was good he would shower at home before meeting with Iwaizumi. It would be embarrassing to meet with Iwaizumi all sweaty and gross. And in the same t-shirt he had almost always worn that they’d met.

And, oh yeah.

He was meeting with Iwaizumi. After planning to do so.

Even though it did seem to be impromptu, it didn’t diminish Daichi’s eagerness.

He was actually going on a date with Iwaizumi Hajime.

He was going on a date!

With Iwaizumi Hajime!

Wish him luck!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, wish Daichi luck. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> Now begins the dating part of their story ;)   
> *rubs hands together, ready to unleash more cute awkwardness, embarrassing moments and dysfunctional friendships*


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

”Suga!” Daichi jumped on Suga’s bed, literally _on top of him,_ in his excitement. There was no way that Suga would still be asleep, mostly probably just dozing off – it was past eleven already.

Apparently he was wrong.

Suga rolled slightly from his side, peeking from under the arm he had covering his head, blinking blearily and slowly and _hard_ against the light of the late morning shining in through his window as he squinted.

“Daichi?”

“Morning sleepyhead,” Daichi chuckled fondly, an echo of something old and mostly forgotten, like nostalgia, emerging under his skin and filling him with warmth.

“Why are you here?” Suga asked, confused, succumbing under his arm, wiggling a little under the downy cover of his comforter.

“I want to tell you about my date last night.”

“Tell me later.”

It was muffled, and adorable, and made Daichi want to pull the covers back to see Suga’s face, to hear him properly. But he held off.

“I can’t tell you later. I have to go to work, and I need to tell you about it before that.”

“That makes no sense,” Suga mumbled.

Daichi wasn’t overly concerned that Suga couldn’t follow his logic for why this had to happen now, why he needed to gush about Iwaizumi right now. He just took the initiative to keep going – he knew Suga would still be listening. He moved from his position lying on Suga and crawled and wormed his way next to Suga, planting his head on one of the extra, vacant pillows Suga had littered his bed with.

Who needed that many pillows? Suga was only using one, well three if you counted the two laid beside each other under the one his head was on.

Back to the present, Daichi silently told himself, shaking his head. He had a date to gush about!

“Did you have fun?” Suga was asking, moving a little to tuck the comforter under his chin so only his head was visible, his eyes fighting every blink as he sleepily gazed at Daichi.

The warmth erupted inside Daichi again, but he paid it no mind. He and that warmth were old friends already, and ‘friends’ was all they would ever be.

He smiled at the sight, and at the fact that Suga had asked.

“Yeah. It was amazing,” Daichi grinned, turning his head to look up to the ceiling, thinking back to every highlight of last night, which had been every second of it.

“I’m glad,” Suga said, sounding sincere and truly happy for him. “But go away now, I want to sleep.” He pulled the covers over his head, the motion seen from the comforter telling Daichi that he was curling a little into himself.

Daichi chuckled and pulled the covers off of Suga’s head to see him. “It’s eleven. How can you still want to sleep? What time did you go to bed last night?”

“I don’t know. Midnight.”

“And eleven hours later you still want to sleep?” Daichi asked with real concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Suga laughed, pushing his hand on Daichi’s face to turn it away. “Stop worrying.”

“Why are you so sleepy then?”

Their conversation had taken a massive detour. Daichi had burst into Suga’s apartment, into his bedroom, had left home extra early to come over and tell him all about his date, and now he was concerned about his best friend. Because, well, he worried now that Suga had dropped his earlier future plans to be a photographer. It was a risky decision on Suga’s part, and Daichi couldn’t help but worry – very much in the same way that Suga’s mother did, they’d bonded about their mutual worry over the phone on multiple occasions now – that Suga was making a mistake just because he had his heart broken.

“I woke up in middle of the night because I was dreaming about the exhibit, about the photos, and I stayed up until seven going through the selection process all over again.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daichi remembered with less concern now. Suga was freaking over his exhibit. It was adorable, and Daichi was careful not to voice the thought so he wouldn’t get hit. “Your first gallery. Excited?”

“A little bit. But now I’m awake so tell me about your date with Iwaizumi-san.” Suga changed his position a little again, still tucked under the warm cocoon of the covers he’d pulled in close to himself, but his head a little straighter on the pillow, more attentive. And his bedhead hair messy and sticking out in every direction.

“It was amazing,” Daichi replied automatically with a sudden and wide smile, preferring to think of the date than melt at the sight of Suga’s bedhead. Just the briefest thought of the date had him beaming, he knew, but didn’t care. He was happy. “Iwaizumi is amazing.”

“What did you do?”

“We went for coffee.”

“He drinks coffee?”

“He said he’s a casual drinker, but he doesn’t really need it in the mornings to wake up. Said he prefers tea.”

“I already like him.”

Daichi chuckled at Suga’s quick opinion. “Yeah, me too,” he admitted with a sigh, but probably for different reasons than Suga did.

“What else?” Suga was nudging him on his shin with his foot, like he was impatient to know more.

Daichi had a creeping feeling that Suga was just impatient so he would get rid of him quicker so he could go back to sleep.

A sudden thought invaded his mind then, and he felt the urge to address it before he could continue about the amazing date.

“When you meet Iwaizumi –“

“Oh, already planning on introducing him to your friends? This is getting serious, Daichi,” Suga cut him off, his smile impish with his tease. “I should get my shotgun out and invite him for a veiled shovel talk.”

“Suga...” Daichi laughed, and turned serious in a drop of a hat. “But, when you meet him and –“ He put his finger in front of Suga’s mouth to shush him, seeing the next tease coming a mile away from the glint in Suga’s eyes. “ – Don’t tell him about Yui.”

Suga’s eyebrows furrowed, just a quick flash of his confusion. He pushed Daichi’s hand a way with a gentle hand on his wrist. “Why?”

“I don’t want him to hear from someone else that I had a girlfriend.”

“Would he care? I’m sure it wouldn’t change how he feels about you.”

“But still –“

“You’re not the first gay guy in his teen years to kiss a girl and realize maybe they’re not all that straight because they kept imagining something bulgier against their crotch from just a single kiss.”

“Suga!” Daichi was laughing again.

“Just because I didn’t kiss a girl to realize I was gay doesn’t mean that you have to have the same experience, or that it makes you any less gay.”

“Suga –“

“I’m pretty sure you’re even gayer than I am.”

“Suga!” Daichi exclaimed, choking from embarrassment and uncontrollable laughter, his cheeks flushed with mortification and amusement.

Suga was snickering, his frame shaking from the force of probably having to hold back his delight.

“You’re unbelievable.” Daichi was shaking his head, but he wasn’t upset. This was so _Suga,_ and it amused him to no end.

“Asahi hasn’t been kissed by either gender and he’s even gayer than both of us combined.”

Daichi agreed with Suga. They were lucky to know Asahi well enough to be able to tell that, and that the subject of sex made him blush like he had the ability to change his skin color. It was quite the party trick.

The subject of Asahi had Daichi’s laughter quell, though, his expression falling with concern. “Do you think he’ll ever gather the confidence to kiss anyone he wishes to?”

“He’s probably going to have his first kiss when someone a lot smaller and a lot spicier and forward than him steals it off his lips by jumping up high enough to reach.”

Daichi huffed in amusement at the thought, at the mental image.

“But back to your date. Tell me more.”

Daichi turned his head to glance at his friend, a smile playing on his lips. “Okay.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Daichi looked at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi looked at Daichi. They both had small smiles on their faces, awkwardly standing in middle of the street while people walked past them.

“I’m sorry you had to wait,” Daichi broke the companionable silence after what had felt like an eternity of just gazing at each other.

“I didn’t wait at all.”

“Are you just saying that?”

“No, I mean it. I just arrived, turned, and there you were.”

“Okay, good.” Daichi nodded, just single motion of his head. “Um –“ His eyes tracked the way Iwaizumi ran his hand through his hair, how his arm flexed under the t-shirt, the sleeve straining against the muscle, all of it distracting him, side railing his thoughts. “Uh,” he had to start over again. “Should we go inside?”

“Yeah, let’s,” Iwaizumi replied, quick and cough-y, like Daichi’s question had broken him out of a reverie.

Had Iwaizumi been looking at him the same way that he had had his thoughts distracted?

They didn’t talk as they stepped inside the air-conditioned little café, they didn’t say a word as they fell into the line, and the silence continued as they waited for their turn to order.

The comfortable, but simultaneously just as awkward quiet came to an end when they got to the counter and Iwaizumi insisted that he’d pay – he had been the one to ask Daichi out.

Daichi had protested, offered to pay for them.

But Iwaizumi wasn’t having it.

 _He’s so serious about this,_ Daichi thought with a happy grin, amazed of how utterly cute Iwaizumi was like this.

Oh boy, he had it bad already.

“I didn’t pull you out of anything important, did I?” Iwaizumi asked as they sat down, on either sides of the small table.

“No, no,” Daichi answered fast. “I was just hanging with a friend. Suga. You met him at the concert. I don’t know if you remember him.”

“I do,” Iwaizumi replied, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in an infinitesimal smile. “You’re good friends?”

“He’s my best friend,” Daichi confirmed with a fond smile. He could probably talk about Suga and their friendship, every adventure and funny mishap they’d gotten into, for hours after hours. But maybe his first date with Iwaizumi wasn’t the time for that.

He took a sip of his coffee, the warmth covering his tongue and comfortable in his stomach once he swallowed. Looking up back to Iwaizumi, he noticed his fallen face.

Was it something he’d said?

Daichi thought, and came to the conclusion that it was the subject of best friends. Iwaizumi had mentioned months ago that he’d dated his best friend, and then they’d broken up.

Was Iwaizumi thinking about that right now?

“Are you okay?”

Iwaizumi lifted his gaze from his cup to meet Daichi’s over the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” His eyes flicked to the side, his eyebrows furrowing for a flash of a moment before he drew his eyes back to Daichi. “Why?” 

“You seem preoccupied.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi breathed. “Sorry. It was a long day.”

Daichi didn’t believe him, not completely. It was probably the truth that his day had been long, but Daichi couldn’t shake the feeling that Iwaizumi wasn’t happy about the subject of best friends.

Daichi was glad for the change in topic of conversation when Iwaizumi continued.

“I meant to change my clothes after work but didn’t know what to wear so I just threw this on.” He grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling it away from his chest a little and let go.

Daichi’s eyes followed the movement, noting with delight how the fabric stretched over Iwaizumi’s muscles when it was released. He took a sip of his coffee to hide his thirst, but even the hot beverage wasn’t enough to still his tongue, keep him from softly spouting his innermost thoughts.

“You look good.”

It was impossible to say in the low ambient lighting if Iwaizumi’s cheeks bloomed red with blush, but from the way he dropped his gaze to his coffee and lifted the cup to his mouth to hide what was probably a smile was more than enough for Daichi to interpret that he’d been flattered.

“Is it bad that I kind of want to kiss you right now?”

No, it wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.

But Daichi liked to think he was more suave than just blurting that right out. So...

“It is kind of on trend of how our interactions have gone.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, a low sound from the back of his throat that did _things_ to Daichi. The butterflies in his stomach, for instance, were very real and almost violent, and the way his toes wanted to curl to deal with the _feels_ the sound gave him... Oh man.

He. Had. It. Bad.

They both shifted, subtly leaning over the table to rest their weight on their forearms and elbows on top of it, an unspoken agreement to be a little closer to each other.

 

 

...

 

 

“Did you kiss him?” Suga interrupted, a soft smile on his face, looking happy and sleepy at the same time.

“Stop interrupting and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“You didn’t kiss him,” Suga stated then, as if Daichi’s reply had confirmed it to him.

 

...

 

 

“I’m starting to think you have a thing about kissing people.”

“Not people.” Iwaizumi locked his eyes with Daichi, the look dark and deep, aimed at Daichi slightly from under his brows. “Just you.”

The butterflies were helicopters now! The blades were whirring fast and violent in his stomach, shredding his insides into a bloody mess.

And, to defend himself on that violent and gory thought – he had spent the day with Suga. Blame Suga for all the blood!

“And I haven’t heard any complaints yet.”

Daichi wanted to whimper.

“How are you real?” he whispered, partly in awe, partly afraid to actually say the words out loud. It was unreal how Iwaizumi could make him feel like this with such simple words. Not that there was anything simple in the words.

 

 

...

 

 

“You didn’t kiss him,” Suga reiterated, disrupting the flow of the story again.

“Stop interrupting. I need to get this out before I have to go to work.”

“Fine. Finish your story about the toe curling date.”

Daichi knew Suga was making fun of him, but he ploughed on with his story anyway.

 

 

...

 

 

“I keep wondering the same thing about you.”

Daichi felt the soft smile on his lips, the gentle heat on his cheeks as he couldn’t help but blush just a little. He picked up his cup, brought it up to his mouth, contemplating on taking a sip, only to bring it back down and meeting Iwaizumi’s alluring gaze straight on.

“I’d like to take you out again.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows rose, his eyes widened a little, his mouth popping open to an adorable small shape of ‘o’. Maybe he hadn’t expected Daichi to be so straightforward, or asserting.

But Daichi was going to show him he was so much more than just an easily embarrassed, slightly blundering mess whenever he was flirted with. He had game, too! He’d told as much to Suga and he was about to prove it to Iwaizumi. He wasn’t just one to stare at someone until he was asked out.

“I know were still in the middle of our first date, but I already want to take you out.”

Iwaizumi was silent, his eyes moving a little from side to side, watching Daichi.

“Okay.”

Daichi’s smile was wide and happy and beaming fucking startlight, he was sure. And, he was proud to show his happiness, show how ecstatic and also just a tad shy the idea of dating Iwaizumi made him. How glad he was about the prospect of taking Iwaizumi out to a dinner, or some other type of date. He’d need to brainstorm good ideas with his friends. Not just with Suga. No, he needed Asahi there too to balance out whatever Suga would come up with.

 

 

...

 

 

“We ordered a second round of coffee, I paid that time, and kept talking until the place closed,” Daichi finished his regale of the best first date he’d ever been on. He had been playing his teenage phase favorite band and the specific song that fit the occasion the whole walk home.

“Did you kiss him?”

Daichi inhaled. Then exhaled slowly. And inhaled again, buying time, studying the ceiling.

“We separated outside the café, going in different directions.”

“I knew you didn’t kiss him.”

Daichi was grateful that Suga just stated the fact without any emotion or a specific tone. It was just a soft statement, and Suga was probably the best friend anyone could ever have and Daichi was immeasurably happy that Suga was his best friend. That he somehow knew exactly what to say and how to say it at any given moment.

“Not every first date has to end in a kiss,” he still wanted to defend the kiss that didn’t happen.

“I know,” Suga said under his breath. “None of mine have.”

Daichi turned his head to look at Suga and wasn’t surprised to see he had his eyes closed, looking like he was about to fall back asleep. He chuckled at the sight and nudged Suga with his elbow.

Suga swatted at his arm half-heartedly.

“That’s because you used to be a prude,” Daichi told him, while simultaneously nudging him even more. When that didn’t seem to be enough and wasn’t producing the reaction he was hoping for, he switched to poking Suga’s side through the blanket with his finger.

“Are you trying to annoy me or keep me awake? I can’t tell,” Suga said, his voice wobbling with the laughter he was seemed to desperately want to keep in, struggling just as much to try and defend himself from Daichi’s prodding fingers.

“Both,” Daichi confirmed with a grin, but he stopped bothering Suga. “I need you awake and I think annoying is the way to go.”

“You know me too well,” Suga sighed, peeking one eye open to look at him. “And I wasn’t a prude.”

“You were when it mattered to you what the people you dated thought of you.”

Suga opened both of his eyes, met Daichi’s gaze with a bright and sweet smile that Daichi was instantly wary of. He knew Suga well.

“I know you’ve already kissed him.”

Yep, from the smile he knew Suga had something up his sleeve. He did not however expect that. How could Suga know? He hadn’t told him. ...Right?

Daichi had to think back, rack his brain for a memory of telling Suga about the kiss. And about the other kiss on his cheek.

“That’s why you’re not worried about it.” Suga sat up, the covers pooling in his lap as he stretched his arms high over his head and twisted to reach for his phone only to gently drop it back down right after he’d checked the time. “When you went out with Kuroo the first time and didn’t kiss, you were freaking out why you hadn’t kissed. The same thing happened with Yui.”

“We’ve known each other too long,” Daichi mourned, hiding his flaming cheeks under his hands as he covered his face.

“I get it if you don’t want to tell me more about it. But if you do, I do have some questions and would love to hear more.”

Daichi groaned under his hands, muffling it into the palms.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t leave soon.”

Daichi groaned again. He really did want to tell Suga about the kiss. It’s just... This is Suga! And it made no sense that he felt like he couldn’t tell his best friend about the kiss, and yet!

“Go to work and let me go back to sleep,” Suga laughed, pushing on him, trying to roll him over and off the bed.

Daichi persisted against the push, which was easy when Suga was barely trying. He dropped his hands from his face, and Suga immediately stopped pushing.

He mulled the words, going them over in his head.

He took a deep breath.

“It was when we first met.”

He watched Suga’s eyes move to the wall, a faraway look taking over his features.

“Is that why you called me in middle of the night and declared that you were in love?” Suga asked with a pinch of a frown, a giggle in his voice. “Must’ve been quite a kiss.”

“Shut up.” Daichi laughed along, shoving Suga on his shoulder and he tipped over easily, going down laughing.

That wasn’t exactly the reason. Back then, he’d still been secretly in love with Suga. And the kiss with a strange man had enforced that feeling for him and he’d been drunk enough to stupidly confess.

But, if that was what Suga thought, well, he was happy to let Suga think so. It was less complicated that way.

“I have to go to work,” Daichi said, getting up from the bed, walking away from the teasing.

“Go,” Suga was still softly chuckling, watching him. “Save lives. I’m going to get more sleep.”

 _That’s what you think,_ Daichi thought and pulled the covers off of Suga’s bed just as he’d gotten snuggled under them with the most blissed close-eyed smile he’d ever seen.

Suga exclaimed indignantly as Daichi walked away laughing, his head thrown back with his mirth.

 

 

...

 

 

Iwaizumi was smiling at his phone, or rather, at the photo there.

He was currently sat in Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s living room, the chatter of his friends and one almost-but-not-quite-there-yet-after-everything-that-happened-and-not-ready-to-forgive-yet –friend.

Yeah, the last one was Oikawa, and it was complicated.

Don’t ask him. He doesn’t want to get into it _again,_ not right now.

Anyway, he fell back to his daydreams and was probably called by his name at least twice, or he preferred to think it was _twice_ before someone had gotten impatient, before he felt a light jab on his arm.

It snapped his attention to his surroundings, made him lock his phone and blacken the screen as he scowled at the offender of his personal space.

Oikawa pointed wordlessly, without looking at him, to Hanamaki, who was looking at him with an amused grin.

“Can you help out?” Hanamaki asked now that he had his attention.

And yeah, Iwaizumi could help out. He briefly wondered why Oikawa wasn’t asked, or why he hadn’t volunteered to, as he got up, casting a quick look at his ex, leaving his phone on the couch seat to save his spot to return to. Nowadays, Oikawa used to jump at the chance to lord his friendlier side over others, helping out with the easy tasks like setting a table, trying to charm the pants off of whoever was witnessing his helpfulness.

This time, though, the task of setting the table was put on Iwaizumi’s shoulders with the stack of bowls Hanamaki placed into his arms.

It was a menial task that didn’t require much brain power or concentration. Just don’t drop the dishes and spill the food everywhere and everyone would think you’re a fucking Einstein. And with the comfortable silence reigning in the apartment as they waited for Matsukawa to come from work any minute now, and not to ruin the companionable atmosphere, the three of them seemed equally glad to keep it that way by not saying anything.

It left Iwaizumi free to return to his daydreams.

 

_“Can I take a photo of you?” He’d asked with little preamble._

_Naturally, Daichi had seemed a little taken aback, slightly bemused, and a tad delighted. And it was cute as fuck!_

_“I mean, sure.” And Iwaizumi had his phone out of his pocket while Daichi continued. “But, why?”_

_“To add as a contact photo for when you call.” It was a shitty excuse. He and Daichi both knew that. It didn’t stop them, though, and Iwaizumi really liked the smile Daichi smiled for the photo._

_“I promise I’m not going to jerk to this,” Iwaizumi felt the need to clarify as he slipped his phone back into his pocket._

_Daichi’s eyes had widened and he turned his head to look away, coughing awkwardly into his fist, prompting Iwaizumi to realize that he probably shouldn’t have said that._

_Well, it was out there. And now Daichi knew that he had jerked thinking of him. Great._

 

Something vibrating registered to Iwaizumi when he thought back with a fond smile to the bashful way Daichi had shot looks at him right after, before either of them could come up with something else to think about.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to call him, and dismissed the vibrations emanating from somewhere to be either Hanamaki’s or Oikawa’s phone. He was banking on the first, thinking it was Matsukawa, calling to inform of when he’d be home.

Until –

“Who’s Sawamura Daichi?” Oikawa asked, his head turning from reading what must’ve been on Iwaizumi’s phone screen to look at him.

“No one,” Iwaizumi hurried to say and ran to the couch with excitement propelling his legs to carry him faster, to pick up his phone. But Daichi had already hung up, the screen displayed the notification of one (1) missed call. He bit his bottom lip, wondering whether to call Daichi back or wait until he was on his way home.

“Are you dating someone?” Oikawa inquired, drawing Iwaizumi’s eyes to him. It sounded innocent enough coming from Oikawa, and surprising too.

Iwaizumi still took his time to deliberate on how to answer, while Hanamaki brought more food to the living room, busying himself on the background, alone.

“Kind of,” Iwaizumi settled on. It was the truth, after all. He and Daichi had been on a date. But it had only been one date. So far. He was looking forward to the second date that Daichi had already kind of asked him on in middle of their first.

But he was apprehensive of Oikawa’s reaction.

“Good.”

It seemed to be unfounded, though, and he wasn’t sure how to react himself now. That definitely wasn’t what he’d expected. Great. Fucking awesome.

“’Good’?” he parroted, with a slight hint of a sneer in his voice, carefully observing Oikawa for any signs of malice.

“I’m happy for you,” Oikawa nodded, still sincere.

Iwaizumi exchanged a look with equally stunned looking Hanamaki, who had halted in his movements putting a big bowl filled with rice down on the table, bent over in a weird angle between going down and straightening up.

What the hell?

What kind of a game was Oikawa playing? He was happy for him?! For dating someone?!

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh... 
> 
> Btw, on a separate note, in case it caught your interest, Oikawa wasn't getting up to help out because his knee was hurting, and he'd arrived to Hanamaki's before Iwaizumi and explained it to him, but neither of them said a word about it to Iwaizumi, had agreed to keep it from him. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This is so much fun to write, and to see all of you to read and like this silly story makes it even more meaningful :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a sugar rush, only listened to the Xcerts' In the cold wind we smile, and this was the result.   
> Enjoy <3

 

 

 

It’d been a couple of days since their first date, and Iwaizumi had been impatient to see Daichi again ever since. He was happy, ecstatic even, when Daichi called and asked if he was busy, if they could meet.

And Iwaizumi had agreed in a blink of an eye, only taken the time enough to quickly make sure he didn’t have any previous engagements. He’d never been happier to have a free evening as he was then.

They’d been texting almost non-stop since the first date, both of them very aware that they had to wait for their work schedules to line up before they could see each other again. And now, Daichi again was... Just...

Iwaizumi was excited, okay?

He wanted to see Daichi again. Wanted to just spend time with him, didn’t matter what they’d do. And maybe, just maybe, he could kiss Daichi again. Correct that faux pas of the first date when he let Daichi go home without a kiss. He would definitely be correcting that wrong.

There was just something... Very nice... Yes, very nice, about Daichi’s lips. He would very much like to feel those nice lips on his again.

“Hajime.”

His daydream bubble was burst and he swiveled his head around to see over his shoulder, to the person standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder, who was now walking around to face him.

“Hey,” he greeted, standing up and stuffing his hands into his jeans’ pockets, uncertain what else to do with them. He looked towards where Daichi had walked up to him, over the bench... “Did you cut through the grass?”

“I saw you from the path and wanted to surprise you,” Daichi explained, a little sheepish, his hand on the back of his neck, a lot adorable.

“Rebel,” Iwaizumi said, to tease Daichi, to make him laugh, arching his eyebrow.

And Daichi did laugh, a short chuckle he simply couldn’t keep inside, dropping his hand and looking away briefly.

“Were you waiting long?” he asked then, clearly worried, and Iwaizumi was quick to assure him.

“I was early, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, good.” Daichi’s smile brightened a little. “It’s great to see you.”

“You too.” Iwaizumi shared the sentiment, his eyes cataloging how Daichi looked that night. And that was pretty damn handsome.

Yep, if Daichi let him, he would be kissing him tonight.

“So, um,” Daichi hesitated, his smile turning a bit shy. “I didn’t actually have any plan, for what we could do, so, if you have any ideas...”

One side of Iwaizumi’s lips quirked up, he liked how abashed Daichi got. “Well, hmm.” He had to think something for them to do then.

“We could just walk around. See if anything interesting comes across our way,” Daichi suggested then, and Iwaizumi was really glad he did, for he was drawing up nothing. He was still too distracted by how Daichi looked, by the thoughts of how he wanted to kiss him, and how he couldn’t really do that until they got somewhere more private.

“That sounds good,” Iwaizumi nodded, gesturing a little with his body for them to go down the path, Daichi falling in step beside him like they had done the same a numerous times already.

“How was your day?” Daichi asked as they had set a comfortable pace, walking among the other pedestrians, either taking a stroll in the early summer evening, or on their way from point A to point B.

“Nothing special,” Iwaizumi answered. “Kind of boring.”

“I don’t really believe that. I know where you work.”

Iwaizumi huffed, amused by Daichi’s playful tone. “I meant it. This is the highlight of my day.” He looked at Daichi as he said it, met his eyes quickly when Daichi glanced at him.

“That’s... That’s really sweet,” Daichi faltered a little, casting a bashful smile at Iwaizumi that did _not_ do things to him.

Okay, fine. It did. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“If I start to blush all of a sudden, you can’t hold it against me.”

Iwaizumi barked out a light laugh. “You’re going to blush?” He’d love to see that. His eyes tracked Daichi’s side profile with new interest, eager to see the red to appear on Daichi’s cheeks.

“You’re unexpectedly sweet. It’s throwing me.”

Now, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to threaten to blush. “No one’s ever called me sweet,” he admitted, averting his eyes from Daichi, blinking.

“No one?” Daichi sounded surprised. “I find that hard to believe,” he continued, his tone so sincere Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly, or if the noise of the city around them had played a trick on his ears.

“I’m usually called blunt. Brutally honest,” he said with a note of self-deprecation in his voice. He didn’t mind that he was called those things. But he could understand how some people might find those qualities unattractive. “Never sweet.”

“Well, I find you sweet, if that’s any consolation.”

Iwaizumi kind of wanted to disagree with Daichi – Daichi was the one being sweet at the moment, not him. Bu he didn’t really want to get into an argument about something so little and inconsequential so early on in their dating. At least he’d come clean about the brutally honest part.

Besides, he didn’t want to argue about something that made him feel appreciated.

“You’re the one being sweet right now.”

“I’m sweet for finding you sweet?” Daichi asked, laughter in his voice. “How sweet.”

Iwaizumi laughed with him, the cool summer breeze whipping gently past them, carrying their laughter somewhere far away.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets, more at ease as he felt, and let his hands hang by his sides. More or less subconsciously, he was stepping a little closer to Daichi so the backs of their hands could brush against each other. Every touch like a spark of endorphins, making him want to smile but keeping it tucked to the corners of his lips, subduing it to the small curl there, sending a shiver through him and settling at his lower back.

“Hey, do you want ice cream?”

Iwaizumi followed Daichi’s gaze and spotted the small kiosk too. “Sure.”

“I’ll pay. What flavor do you want?”

“I can pay.”

“No. You paid for the first round of coffee, so this is on me. If we stop for a second ice cream, you can pay for those,” Daichi reasoned as they made their way towards the short line – short enough to only have one person in the queue.

Iwaizumi laughed, amused by Daichi’s logic. “Oh, is that how it goes?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.” Iwaizumi didn’t have anything against it. “And if we don’t stop for another ice cream tonight, I’ll pay for them on another date.”

“Sounds good.”

Iwaizumi was pleased that Daichi had just agreed to another date. He wondered if that was going to become a thing for them. Planning for the next date _during_ a date. He certainly wouldn’t mind it.

A moment later and they had their ice creams and were walking along the path again. They had come a silent agreement to circle the block, passing by the same street corners, the same trees lining the path, talking about everything that came to mind, neither lacking in topics.

It was easy, it was fun.

He didn’t want it to end.

“Are you working tomorrow?” he asked as they turned right instead of left at the corner. He balled up the napkin he’d picked up with the ice cream and dropped into the trashcan they were passing by. Daichi stepped behind him to do the same before he was walking beside him again.

Daichi was shaking his head, and Iwaizumi was asking right away, “Do you want to do something tomorrow with me?”

He watched Daichi’s eyes crinkle with his smile. “Sounds good. What are we doing?”

“A movie, maybe? I don’t know what’s in the theaters, though.”

“That’s okay. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

Daichi’s smile was sweet, putting Iwaizumi at ease. With a deep inhale, he gathered his courage and took Daichi’s hand into his, twining their fingers for a short moment, feeling Daichi’s hand squeeze his before they separated. Neither of them brave enough quite yet to hold on longer in public.

“Where do you live?”

“Why? Do you want to walk me home?”

There was a light tease in Daichi’s voice, but Iwaizumi was serious.

“Yes,” he stated outright and he would’ve sworn that Daichi faltered with his next step. “I want to kiss you good night.”

“You weren’t lying when you said you had a thing for kissing me, huh?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay, then...”

Iwaizumi arched his eyebrow at the hesitation, glancing at Daichi.

“Do you want to do that in five minutes or later, in about fifteen minutes?”

“The sooner the better,” Iwaizumi replied with conviction.

“Let’s turn here then.” Daichi turned at the street corner, his enthusiasm, although subtle, still obvious in the way he picked up the pace.

Even with the slightly hastened pace, they managed to make idle chatter about the things that mattered to them, sharing thoughts and opinions about the things they found they wanted to share with the other.

And as much as Iwaizumi was anticipating the end of their impromptu date, the kiss that was going to be the highlight of the evening that he knew he’d remember with butterflies in his stomach, with shivers in his back and with toes curling in his socks for the rest of his life, he was a little disappointed when Daichi slowed to a stop.

“This is me.”

Iwaizumi stopped as Daichi did and took a look around. “I live about two blocks from here.” He was glad to note, that hint of joy in his smile as turned so he was standing facing Daichi. He was sure nothing could take the smile away from him now, or anymore.

“I had fun.”

Iwaizumi nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. “Thanks for the ice cream.”

Daichi chuckled, with a hand behind his neck and gaze down at his toes, like he was embarrassed. “Was this really lame?”

“What? No. Of course not. I really enjoyed being with you.” It was cute how Daichi was a little embarrassed, but Iwaizumi didn’t want him to feel so about something that didn’t merit such a feeling.

Daichi dropped his hand and looked up to him, a little shy, a lot adorable, the most alighting the urge in Iwaizumi to kiss the ever-loving soul out of him.

“Were you serious about the kiss?”

Oh, how Iwaizumi was glad he asked. “I was.” His gaze fell to Daichi’s lips as he _seriously_ contemplated kissing him.

“You don’t have to.”

“I really want to,” Iwaizumi despaired, flicking his eyes back to Daichi’s before he took a swift look around them. It was turning dark with the sun gone down as their date had come to the much anticipated end, but there were people around. “It’s just... Public,” he explained, lamely gesturing around them.

When he looked back to Daichi he saw him glancing around as well, biting his bottom lip and that... was... So unfair! Iwaizumi wanted to do that to Daichi’s lip. To run his tongue along it, to feel it’s softness before he’d suck it in, to –

His daydreams of kissing Daichi were interrupted when the subject of his dreams grabbed his hand and pulled him after him to the door of the building. He watched, in slight daze, Daichi punch in the code to the lock and push the door open with his free hand. Iwaizumi stumbled after him, still tucked gently by Daichi’s hand, turning a sharp right, guided to stand in front of Daichi as he leant his back to the wall.

“Is this better?”

“A little,” Iwaizumi replied in awe of how Daichi took command. “Are the lights automatic?” He’d noticed even through his daze how the hall they were now standing in had been dark until they walked inside.

“Motion sensor,” Daichi answered. “They’ll shut off in a minute or so if we don’t move.”

Iwaizumi took in the information and moved closer to Daichi in a space of a measly second, one of his feet planted almost between Daichi’s to stand closer so he wouldn’t trigger the sensor when he’d kiss Daichi once the lights dimmed.

“Is this okay?” he asked, just a whisper between their bodies. He brought his hand to Daichi’s waist, just a light touch first, until he heard the whispered “yeah” and saw Daichi nod, and he was encouraged to have a firmer hold, inching closer.

They were out of anyone’s sight now, in the “privacy” of pressed against the wall of the apartment building’s foyer, and he could Daichi if he so wished to do – and oh boy did he wish to – even in the brightly lit foyer of blank white walls, the non-descript of their surroundings, he was resolved to kiss Daichi.

 It might’ve looked like he was stalling as he just stood there, feeling the warmth of Daichi’s body under his hand through his black t-shirt. It might’ve seemed like he was waiting for the lights to turn off as he felt the steadiness and the reliability that Daichi was practically shining with, silently calling for everyone around him to entrust him.

It might’ve appeared like that.

But in reality, he was transfixed in Daichi’s eyes, in the pure trust Daichi held there for him. Not the vulnerable kind, but unwavering.

Neither could hold the eye contact for long, always flicking their gazes away only to be drawn back, their blushes spreading, noticed but unremarked on.

Although Iwaizumi _really_ hadn’t waited for the lights to shut off, it took that long, for the moment for them to be engulfed in the darkness in the little nook of a corner, to move his hand behind Daichi’s neck and press closer. Slowly, so not to trigger the motion sensor.

He was gentle, gentler than the previous kisses had been, and conscious of it. He wanted to hold onto the ‘sweetness’ that Daichi strangely found in him. The press of their lips was light, barely any pressure there. He was afraid to give too much, to take too much.

Until Daichi breathed a small sigh into the kiss, echoing Iwaizumi’s own contentment, and –

And it unlocked the desire he’d held back, turning their kiss fierce, lips and tongues searching for the taste of the other’s. He wasn’t even fully aware where his own hands were, roaming on Daichi’s arms, down his chest and up his side, arms wrapping around him to hold him closer while angling his head so he could kiss even deeper. What he was aware of, very vividly so, were Daichi’s hands and where they were, trailing down his arm and squeezing  gently on his bicep, fingers ghosting on his neck to secure a palm under his jaw, a thumb softly stroking along the bone, while the other hand traveled into his hair, fingers delving there to keep him close, not letting him escape – not that Iwaizumi even wanted to.

Oh no, not in a million years.

If he was given the option of anything versus the feeling of Daichi’s body pressed against, chest to chest, hips to hips, he’d always choose this intoxicating feeling.

Daichi hummed, pulling back slowly, just a sliver of air left between their lips, only so little that the words he spoke had their lips still brushing, a ghost of their kisses, a lingering memory both of them were more than happy to indulge in.

“About tomorrow.”

“Hm?” Iwaizumi hummed back, allowing Daichi to continue as he let his lips continue the kisses, traveling the soft expanse of Daichi’s cheek, the faintest of a stuble, to his jaw, to his neck.

“Do you want to meet at the theatre?”

Daichi sounded far too put together in Iwaizumi’s opinion, and he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to unravel him more. But, he made himself feel better about his skills in kissing with the fact that they were still in a highly public setting. No matter how into the making out he had been, it had sat in the back of his mind that anyone could walk by them at any moment. Even with how irresistible he found Daichi, the lack of privacy had him on edge, had him keep his eyes closed to keep up the illusion that it was just the two of them in the world, with all the time in the world dedicated just for kissing. Soft, hard, lingering, chaste... Didn’t matter what kind, as long as he was _kissing_ Daichi.

“Hajime?”

Oh, right. Daichi had asked him a question.

He pulled back, but only a little as possible and still be able to look at Daichi.

It was dark, thankfully, but he could still see the disheveled look on Daichi from his hands grabbing onto his shirt, fingers carding through hair, lips kissed and bitten full. It was distracting. It was brazening.

“Can I pick you up?” he suggested instead, his eyes slowly still taking in Daichi and how unnecessary and unfairly debauched he looked for what had been a make out session just a smidgen on the reserved side. He’d really like to pick Daichi up.

And Daichi didn’t have any objections to that, apparently sharing the same thought of how he’d like that.

“What time?” A little less coherent now, more breathier, and Iwaizumi was confident that the waver in Daichi’s voice was because of how _he_ looked after Daichi’s busy hands and keen mouth.

“Uh...” Iwaizumi floundered eloquently. He had no idea wat was playing and when. A quick internet search would help, but he was too... Something... That would mean letting go of Daichi, of not touching him... He was too preoccupied in the lingering bliss of what Daichi’s kisses had done to him, how they had made him want more and how at the same time they had been perfect enough to be just right and just enough. He was too _something_ to process the actions that would have him pull out his phone to do the quick search.

“We can figure it out tomorrow,” Daichi said, saving Iwaizumi, his smile and voice lilting with what Iwaizumi assumed was amusement, presumably over his inability to move, or think.

Now, though. Now he was coming out of his stupor, now that he had fully catalogued to every little detail how Daichi looked, after he’d fully appreciated it, enough for now but definitely revisited later.

It was mostly due to the panic he felt rising in him when he realized Daichi moving, pushing him away a little and with gentle hands on his shoulders.

He quelled the panic, swallowed it down as the lights came on from their movement. He buried the panic deep down with reassurances to himself that it was unfounded when Daichi was stepping up to him, pressing closer again, surprising him with the tender kiss he pressed to the corner of his lips, already stepping to the side and away from him before he could stop him. Or kiss him more.

“Bye,” Daichi said with a curl of his lips and walked to the elevator, pushing a button to call it down.

The doors opened immediately, to Iwaizumi’s disappointment. With a small wave of his hands, another sweet smile and a “bye” that sounded like “good night”, Daichi stepped inside the elevator, leaving Iwaizumi to stand alone in the foyer. Mourning a little for he couldn’t kiss Daichi more that night.

His heart wildly beating an erratic rhythm in his chest, like a jungle drum beating a rhythm to the butterflies dancing in his stomach.

All the sensations of madness of liking someone so much your head was in the clouds, all because he had a date with Daichi tomorrow night, too.

He knew, though, that the head-spinning feeling was more because of the kiss, the kiss he could still taste, could still feel, and maybe the knowledge that he’d be able to kiss Daichi again tomorrow night.

With that joyous, lifting thought, he managed to put one foot in front of the other, and make his way home, still feeling like he had found permanent residence at ninth heaven, the memory of how Daichi’s lips had felt against his there. The smiles and fleeting touches, the awkwardness that they were able to overcome, the shyness because they didn’t know each other that well yet, all danced in his mind during his short walk, and wove beautiful dreams as he fell asleep.

 

 

...

 

 

”I have to be honest,” Daichi said, and instantly Iwaizumi’s mind jumped to worse case scenarios.

He’d heard those very words when Oikawa had... _I have to be honest..._

He tensed, guarding himself for what he was about to hear, then, a sigh of relief when Daichi continued, unknowing of the brief rollercoaster he’d sent Iwaizumi’s nerves on.

“I know nothing about this franchise.”

Another, deeper than before, sigh of relief that Iwaizumi tried to keep subtle, flashing a faint, but reassuring smile at Daichi. “It’s okay. I don’t really know anything either, except that they’re superheroes because of some weird accidents and mythological lore and that they’re going to wreck shit up.”

Daichi laughed.

And Iwaizumi could’ve melted upon hearing it.

He took a breath and instead of turning into a puddle in the middle of the movie complex, he took a look around. The demographic was... Predictable. That was all Iwaizumi thought about it and wasn’t about invest any more time on it. Daichi was far more interesting, far more important, far more captivating. His eyes were already drawn back to his date.

And he was already watching him.

Iwaizumi really hoped that he wasn’t making any idiotic expressions, his worry about it only a little soothed by the soft smile Daichi had directed at him.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Daichi asked, apparently when he deemed that he had Iwaizumi’s attention again.

Well, that was an easy question that followed an even easier answer. “Godzilla.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t laugh, but, I mean, I know it’s lame, but the very first one.”

“I’ve never seen that,” Daichi said, still with the gentle smile gracing his features. “Maybe we could watch it together sometime?”

“Definitely.” Iwaizumi would like nothing more. His favorite movie. With Daichi. In a dark room.

Yeah, sign Iwaizumi up for that.

“I have it on Blu-Ray, if you wanted to come over some time, to watch it, maybe.” He hated how his confidence waned with every syllable, just a little bit, and hoped that Daichi hadn’t noticed the slight drag at the very end when he barely was able to keep his voice level.

But Daichi was looking at him, a small curl at the corner of his lips that was already promising to Iwaizumi of what his reply might be.

“I think I’d like that.”

Yep, sometimes, and most of the time that Iwaizumi spent just breathing, he was glad for his instincts.

Iwaizumi daydreamed about the possibilities of more and more dates, more and more time spent with Daichi, and soon enough they were allowed to find their seats and get comfortable for the mayhem on the silver screen.

Most of which they of course missed, for Iwaizumi was unable to keep his hands, or his lips, to himself once Daichi’s hand fell on his in the darkened theatre.

 

 

 


End file.
